


Purgatory Survival Guide

by Selopan



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Psychological Complexity, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selopan/pseuds/Selopan
Summary: Acting Sheriff Nicole Haught has her hands full. Six weeks ago, a severe snowstorm isolated all residents from the rest of the world. Sheriff Nedley is missing. Town supplies are running low. Purgatorians are restless and scared. Revenant activity has increased and Wynonna Earp is convinced revenants are to blame for the deteriorating weather.Making matters worse, Nicole’s recently ex-girlfriend, Waverly Earp, calls her in need of emergency assistance. These days, survival means braving dangerous winds, making quick decisions in life-or-death situations, and saving the people she loves… all while nursing a broken heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Call for Help**

 

By 5AM, Nicole had spread avocado on her gluten-free toast, brewed tea, eaten breakfast, showered, dressed, stuffed her survival gear in her pack, and received 11 voice mail messages. All from Purgatory residents claiming various degrees of _urgent_.

She grabbed her 60-pound, tactile backpack lying on the floor by the door frame, trying not to wince at the weight. Everything in her backpack was essential. From her first aid kit, emergency blanket, and thermal tent to her portable electronics, flashlights with extra batteries, emergency water and food packs, and a grappling hook.

She briefly stopped at the door to check her status in front of the nearby mirror. There were bags under her red eyes. Red hair a disheveled mess. Three sleepless weeks would do that to you.

So would a broken heart, she thought briefly and quickly dismissed the thought.

As far as dressing for the weather was concerned, Nicole spared no expense. Under her snug, blue fleece jacket with a hoodie, she wore a gray, long sleeve base layer, thermal underwear and socks, and black fleece cargo pants. She had waterproof winter boots with removable traction. Her left pant pocket held a multifunctional titanium knife; she had her cell phone on her right. On her right hip lay her Smith & Wesson 659 tucked securely inside its holster. She wore paracord bracelets on both wrists. Being this decked out reminded her of being in the military. A long time ago. Full battle rattle.

Nicole took a deep breath and braced herself for the brutal beating of 45 MPH winds. She grabbed her keys, set her backpack on her shoulders, and put on her winter balaclava face mask. “Oorah,” she muttered under her breath before charging to her truck. This was going to be a long day.

 

*****  

 

Surveillance was always a natural process for Nicole. Her brain automatically worked to assess for changes in the environment. And what Nicole assessed was not good news. On her ride to the station, she noticed ice continuing to thicken near the edges of the road, narrowing the path and making travel to the downtown area dangerous. She counted at least 3 homes where large trees were cracked slightly in the direction of the houses, posing a dangerous threat with these continued winds. She made a mental note to call those residents when she got to the office. 

At 5:20AM, the moon was the only source of light, and there was a halo surrounding the moon that tended to forecast an upcoming snow fall. No animals in sight. Just the sound of howling wind. Over and over again. If it were not for all her life-and-death responsibilities and the stressors currently on her shoulders, Nicole would take a moment to admire Mother Nature for her life force.

The station in the morning was quiet. As soon as she arrived, she outlined a list of To Do’s. Where do you even start when shit hits the fan so hard? First item on the list was the same item on the list for the last 3 weeks: _Save Nedley._

Where was the old man? A part of her believed he was dead and that she was wasting her time trying to track him down. Was it even possible to survive this snow storm without any resources for 6 weeks? The other part of her knew he was a survivor. She hoped that he had simply been unable to communicate. Nicole’s worst fear was that he was lying in the middle of nowhere in these elements, struggling to survive, and all she had to do was find him. And she could save him. Bring him home.

Nicole shoved away a tear and stood up to examine her wall. In front of her was all the information she knew about his disappearance based on conversations with an eye witness, credit card usage, and his GPS tracking devices. She had timelines and locations and radius estimations.

Nedley had been up by the mountains in his vacation cabin when the snow storm hit. Approximately half hour before the storm, he had purchased additional fuel for his generator, ammunition, and a carrot cake 20 miles south from his cabin at a local store.

Why had he travelled so far from his cabin for these items with a pending snow storm? The store clerk said he looked angry and unlike himself. What had happened that upset him? Was it even significant? Did he know he wouldn’t be able to make it back to the cabin in time? Did he have an accident on his way back?

These questions plagued Nicole. Every lead had ended. She had been up and down the same mountain too many times to count. And, unfortunately, there was no sign. No tracks. A whole lot of frustrating nothing. Just white snow and a menacing wind.

Nicole slowly blew out a breath. She tabled her thoughts and questions for the next 30 minutes so that she could finish her list, start a pot of coffee, and respond to Purgatory calls. The sun was about to rise.

 

*****

 

By 10AM, the office was bustling with a room full of concerned Purgatorians who had nothing else to do but drive to the station and demand answers. Nicole fielded questions as best she could.

“Any updates on Sheriff Nedley?” asked one citizen.

“No sir. We’re still searching.”

“What’ll people think without a Sheriff in town? Criminals will have a field day! You steppin’ up as Sheriff then?”

“I’m already Acting Sheriff for now, Bill, but I’m following through on some more leads. I haven’t given up yet. We just need to maintain level headedness. The storm will pass. We just need to see this through—”

“Easy for you to say, _Ms._ Haught! I got children goin’ hungry. It’s been 3 weeks. Nothin’ left in the stores! When will the town get more supplies?”

Nicole sighed because she knew there was no satisfying answer. “I don’t know, Mrs. Taylor. Weather forecast is predicting another… week.”

There was a simultaneous collective groan around the room.

“A week!” said another resident. “We’re gonna starve tah death… if we don’t kill each other first! What about air support?”

“Same answer as before, Mr. Clark,” Nicole responded, attempting at patience. “Helicopters are not safe to land with this weather. It’s unpredictable. Could be deadly. Pilots are not willing to risk that.”

“Oh, that’s rich!”

“So what do you suggest we do, Officer Haught, wait out the storm, see what kills us first? Starvation? Dehydration? Hypothermia? The _wolves_?”

Nicole was tired of the same questions. She had had enough for today. “I suggest!” she started, a little too loudly and immediately commanding attention from the room. “… that you all go _home_ …” She looked at Ms. Taylor, “…budget your food for at least 2 more weeks…” She glanced at Mr. Clark, “…call _only_ when you have an immediate emergency… and let me concentrate on getting resources for everyone rather than fielding complaints Every. Single. Day.” She paused for effect. In the momentary silence, she regarded the crowd with steeled eyes. Her whisper then may as well have been a roar.

“Get up and get out. Let me do my job.”

 

*****

 

Needless to say, Purgatorians did not take kindly to Nicole’s “lack of professionalism”—to quote Mr. Clark. But she hardly had any time to care. The rest of her day involved calling the National Guard, UNICEF, and various natural disaster relief organizations to update them on the status of Purgatory, coordinate resources, and establish timelines. Everyone essentially told her the same frustrating thing. They could arrive within the week at the earliest, pending weather. Purgatory was clearly not high on their list. 

When the rest of the officers clocked out at 5PM, Nicole stayed a few more hours to map out possible terrain to search for Nedley the next day. By 10PM, fatigue had set in. Every muscle hurt. Caffeine had long since lost its effect. She closed her files, stretched, and packed her gear to head out when her cell phone rang.

Checking the caller ID, she momentarily froze when she read the name. She was keenly aware of her heart beating faster. Uncomfortably harder.

“Nicole?!” The voice seemed frightened. The connection was weak.

“Waverly? Waverly, what’s going on?”

“I need you. It’s Wynonna. She’s—” Nicole lost reception for a second. “—the Homestead. I need you, _please._ I don’t know wha—.”

“I’m on my way. Can you hear me? Waves, I’m on my way!”

 


	2. Save Yourself

**Chapter Two: Save Yourself **

 

Nicole had no idea what was expecting her at the Earp Homestead. She was 10 minutes out. The line with Waverly had gone dead. She texted a few times with no response.

All Nicole knew was that she was driving dangerously fast, that her heart was beating at the same rate, and that her thoughts raced with questions and hypotheticals. Every once in a while, her truck swerved, the tires skating on the ice, reminding her to slow down.

“Steady, Nicole. You can’t help Waverly if you crash your ride.”

Pulling up to the Earp Homestead driveway, she noticed the lights to the entire house were off. She honked the horn harshly several times and dashed out to the front porch with her backpack over her shoulder.

Boots crunched the snow and wind bit her skin as she approached the door and knocked furiously only to realize the door was open. She walked into the house and immediately tracked blood on the floor. She dropped her gear quietly and pulled her Smith & Wesson from the holster.

Heart pounding and jaw firmly set, Nicole grabbed her flashlight and illuminated her path with her shooting arm perched on top of her left forearm. Standard military stance for night gun fire. Stealthily, she followed the blood trail through the living room to the kitchen, scanning behind her for any evidence of an altercation. Eyes front and she was looking at a shotgun aimed right at her.

“Nicole,” Waverly said in relief, dropping her shotgun to her side. “Thank God it’s you.” _Who else would it be?_

Waverly was on the floor with Wynonna out cold in her arms, wrapped in a blood-soaked blanket.

“Oh, my God, Waves. What happened? Is this your blood or hers?”

Waverly dismissed Nicole’s questions. “Did you close the door? Can you help me? Please c-close the door.” Nicole detected fear in her voice.

It took Nicole a second to compute the strangeness of the situation, but she complied anyway and went to close the front door. When she returned, she assessed Waverly carefully. Her eyes were wide with fear but also distant. She was not hysterical, but rather unusually quiet and yet mentally preoccupied. Like the look of someone in total shock. Nicole approached her gently and knelt down.

“Are you hurt?”

Waverly shook her head no.

“Is there someone else here?”

Again, Waverly shook her head. _Good_ , Nicole thought, inserting her gun back in her holster. She didn’t have to contend with an enemy in the house. Now she could focus on handling the situation in front of her.

“Is Wynonna OK?”

“Yeah,” Waverly sighed, “just sleeping it off.”

“Sleeping what off?” She pointed to Wynonna’s blanket. “There’s blood.”

That seemed to get Waverly out of her mind, as if noticing the blood for the first time. She looked up at Nicole, who was crouched over her. A tear slid down Waverly’s cheek and Nicole’s inner protector immediately surfaced. “D-demon attack,” Waverly slurred.

“At the Homestead?”

“Yep.”

Nicole had a dozen questions she wanted to ask but deemed Waverly was in no condition to be answering them. They had to prioritize resources. The adrenaline rush now dissipating, Nicole was able to realize the house was freezing. There was no power. The door had been left opened. And Waverly barely had a coat on. Scrutinizing her ex-lover now, Nicole was hit with the realization that the glazed look in Waverly’s eyes was not psychological shock but rather onset of hypothermia. And that made Nicole deeply concerned about Wynonna’s state as well.

 

*****

 

Nicole raced to her backpack and dumped its contents on the kitchen floor. She unfolded an emergency blanket and wrapped it around Waverly, whose skin was cold to the touch.

Then she placed another emergency blanket around Wynonna and checked for a pulse at her wrist. It was faint but there. “Waverly, you and Wynonna have hypothermia.” Her tone was steady and informational.

“S-sounds right.” Waverly smiled weakly.

“I need you to talk to me. About anything. I just need to know that you’re staying conscious.”

As she pushed aside the kitchen table and built an impromptu emergency tent inside the kitchen, Nicole heard Waverly softly say, “I’ve missed you.” Nicole briefly stopped what she was doing and locked eyes with Waverly, _really_ looking at her. She saw deep pain and regret behind those gorgeous green eyes. Nicole wondered if her own eyes revealed the same pain.

A passing thought. _Focus._

“Tell me what happened,” Nicole stated, gently picking up Wynonna and placing her inside the tent. As she worked on increasing Wynonna’s body temperature, Waverly began recounting.

“A-around nine, power went out. We thought because the snow storm so we went to check. But it was a s-set up. They surrounded us.” Waverly shivered. “Wynonna didn’t have Peace Maker. We ran back ins-side. A revenant threw Wynonna against the ki-kitchen wall. She was in and out of consciousness… killed one by some miracle. Lucky shot. I used my shotgun on another. It’s-It’s-It’s his blood on the floor. Then they left. And Wynonna passed out again when I called you.”

“How many demons were there?” 

“Four.”

The air almost left Nicole’s lungs then, to think that a group of demons had surprise attacked the Earp sisters in the vulnerability of the night, in their home, in the middle of a goddamn blizzard. Her anger was without measurement. What would she have done if she had lost Waverly that way? How would she ever make sense of the world again?

Satisfied with the progression of warmth returning to Wynonna’s body temperature, Nicole kneeled down in front of Waverly, who appeared lost in thought. She gently placed a finger under Waverly’s chin and lifted it so that she would meet Nicole’s eyes. The sudden pull to be her girlfriend again, _her person_ , the one in charge of protecting her and caring for her, was overwhelming. For a millisecond, Nicole had a hard time remembering why they broke up. Why she’d spent 6 weeks without her. Then she remembered and her heartache returned. 

Pushing her thoughts to the side, Nicole adjusted her position in front of Waverly and placed her hands on Waverly’s ice-cold legs, “Your turn. I’m gonna warm you up now, Waverly. Then I’ll get the power going and make you some hot tea. Any requests?”

Waverly looked up at her and bit her bottom lip, which caused Nicole to swallow a knot.

“English tea, please.”

 

*****

 

“Hey, Haught stuff,” Wynonna called out from within the tent, “You have the hands of a goddess.” She pulled back the tent opening and stretched out like a cat.

“I can see why Waverly—” she stopped when she caught a glimpse of Waverly, braced against the kitchen door frame, one eyebrow casually arched.

“You were saying?”

“Nuthin’.” Wynonna shrugged. “Confidential convo. Where’s Haught?”

“Sleeping.” Waverly shoved a cup of coffee into Wynonna’s hands. “In my room.”

Wynonna’s lips hovered in the puckered position above her mug. “Oh?”

Waverly scoffed. “As if we would have had time to even talk. Between saving your ass and fixing the power last night, she’s—”

“Hey, the power’s back on!” Wynonna beamed happily and Waverly shook her head. It never ceased to surprise Waverly how fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants Wynonna could be. As if yesterday had been erased and all that was left was the present moment. She envied her sister’s ability to do that. Waverly, meanwhile, wanted – no, needed— a plan. _Right now_.

 “…I love butches!” Wynonna was saying. “They’re the best.” She took a sip of her coffee and made a facial gesture, “Organic, Waverly, really? Where’s the sugar so I can drown this sucker in Stevia?”

“Well, while you do that _so_ _very_ _important_ thing, we need to talk about revenants waltzing into the Homestead last night like a shopping mall. They nearly killed us, Wynonna.”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“We need to regroup. Call Dolls and Jeremy. Hell, maybe even Doc can—” Wynonna cut her off.

“ _We_ need to do all of that, sure… but later. _I_ need to take a shower. And think. _You_ need to go upstairs and talk to one Nicole Haught and…” Waverly started to protest and Wynonna quickly stopped her with a hand “Agh! Fix it.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.” Waverly’s voice was low.

“Then figure out a way to make her listen, baby girl, because we are not winning this without her. We need her. She has to know what we’ve been up to. Now, and this is very important,” Wynonna squinted intensely at Waverly, “Where the _hell_ is the Stevia?”

Waverly sighed and braced herself mentally for her upcoming conversation with Nicole, hoping it would end even remotely better than their last attempt at hashing things out. Leaving the kitchen, Waverly called out over her shoulder, “We ran out about a week ago.”

“Flying shitballs!” she heard Wynonna say.

 

*****

 

Waverly cracked her bedroom door slowly, not wanting to disturb Nicole if she was still sleeping. But Nicole was already wide awake, hair wet from her recent shower, sitting on the edge of the bed tying her snow boots. For a split moment, Waverly allowed herself to appreciate the sight in front of her. Nicole wore a blue sports bra and fleece black pants that revealed the gentle curve at her waist and a flatter belly. Her arms were slightly more toned—stronger— than she remembered. The outline of her jaw tighter. She had this rugged-like appearance that was different. There was a mismatch between the Sweet Nicole she remembered and the No Nonsense Nicole before her now.

It was also not lost on Waverly how seeing Nicole made her feel. The rush of memories. Her mind played a video recording of every single highlight in their relationship from start to break up. It was overwhelming to simultaneously feel relieved, nervous, frustrated, angry, and excited to see her. 

Waverly swallowed and soundlessly stepped inside the room, closing the door softly behind her. Their eyes locked. A silent moment that felt longer than it actually was. Where to even start? What could she even say?

“I’m—Thank you, for coming last night.” Waverly gazed down and bit her lip anxiously.

“Of course.” Nicole shrugged it off. “Always, Waverly. You know that. Glad to see you’re doing better.” Nicole found her long-sleeve base layer on the floor and stood up. “Shall we head downstairs?”

“Um- Yea. Before that. Can we talk?”

“Absolutely. Let’s talk about how revenants managed to get in…?”

“No, I meant… talk about us.”

“Oh.” Nicole took a moment, seemingly searching for the right words to say. “That’s a dead end, Waverly.” Waverly internally flinched. _Not exactly the best words._

“I’d rather we address the rev…”

“Nicole. Geez. Please!” The abrupt change in Waverly’s tone appeared to get Nicole’s attention.

“I haven’t seen you in 6 weeks. You’ve avoid every opportunity to be alone with me. I know you’re still hurting but I—”

“—Not hurting.”

The steel eyes Nicole sent Waverly said otherwise, but the comment silenced her, nonetheless. If Nicole wasn’t hurting anymore, then why did Waverly feel so rejected right now? So unable to communicate in the most basic terms with the person she once considered her best friend?

Waverly changed her approach.

“OK, I’m glad you’re not hurting anymore. I’m really happy that that’s the case. I-I just wish we could go back to being friends.”

“Friends?” So imperceptibly did Nicole’s jaw tighten that Waverly almost missed it. “You could do that?”

Nicole took several steps toward Waverly causing Waverly to take equal steps back. “You could be my friend? You could watch me with someone else?”

Nicole was close enough now that Waverly could smell the body wash on Nicole’s skin. She sensed droplets of Nicole’s wet hair fall on the floor. Smelled the conditioner—her conditioner—on Nicole. Waverly could only stand there as Nicole’s proximity engulfed her senses.

“You said you missed me.” To Waverly, it almost sounded like an accusation. Waverly looked up at Nicole, momentarily confused by her sensory experiences.

“Did I?”

Nicole scoffed. “Hot and Cold Waverly, why am I _not_ surprised?” The comment stung.

Nicole motioned to leave the room and Waverly realized she was losing this moment. She felt an intense urgency to retake control of the situation. She knew very well that it would be extremely unlikely she’d have another opportunity for privacy like this with Nicole.

Attempting to push past her, Waverly impulsively stopped Nicole by placing both hands against her chest.

“Don’t!” Nicole warned. _Fuck. Too late._

The skin-to-skin contact shocked both of them simultaneously. Waverly’s breath hitched. With incredulity, she watched her hands resting on Nicole’s chest. How long had it been since she last touched Nicole? It had definitely been _more_ than 6 weeks. Their intimacy had stopped many months prior. Now recalling the reasons for their sexual distance in the first place, anger suddenly ripped through Waverly. She was tired of feeling guilty over what had happened. She was tired of what had become an emotional roller coaster ride with Nicole.

All Waverly wanted to do was tell Nicole how angry she felt. How hurt and betrayed. How pissed the fuck off she was about everything Nicole did that led to their break up.

But no words came. Instead, the scent of Nicole left Waverly in a daze. The warmth under her fingertips felt like a magnetic pull, daring her to stay…. and knead… and caress. Months of denial and repression and avoidance melted, replaced with an overpowering longing that both scared and excited Waverly.

So when Nicole glanced down at Waverly’s lips, heat in her eyes, the boundaries between anger and passion blurred. Logic and coherence shattered. It was as if her entire mind and body switched gears without permission, turned on autopilot, and all her tension was redirected into having Nicole closer. So she did.

Without seeking consent, Waverly buried her hands in Nicole’s tousled wet hair, forcefully demanding her closer. The action caused Nicole to drop her base layer and pin Waverly against her bedroom door with a loud _thud_. Both of Nicole’s hands on Waverly’s waist, their position unlocked months of sexual tension and unfulfilled arousal.

“Nicole…” Waverly pleaded, succumbing fully to her desire. Thought processes no longer available. Body now in charge.

Instinctively, she sought Nicole’s lips with her own but Nicole pulled back. Instead of kissing her, Nicole roughly tilted Waverly’s face to the side and bit into Waverly’s exposed neck. A sharp bite. Waverly gasped, at once confused and aroused.

Waverly was _extremely_ sensitive in that particular area and Nicole knew that. Was this punishment? Her question drowned when Nicole softened her bite, replacing her teeth with her tongue. The massage made the pain feel exquisite. Silently, Nicole skillfully lapped slow, soothing licks and placed gentle kisses across that same vulnerable spot until it drew a whimper from Waverly. Her knees gave way and Nicole steadied her with a leg between her thighs.

“Oh, my…” God, how she missed the way Nicole affected her. Memories from their last sexual encounters only served to intensify Waverly’s anticipation of what was to come if they kept going this direction.

Struggling to keep coherent, Waverly held onto Nicole’s arms for support. Nicole’s body pressed against Waverly’s breasts, trapping her against the door. It was exactly the warmth she had craved for so long. Her body flushed with heat, an already painful pulse developing at her center. How the hell had her body turned to 100 so quickly? Waverly was keenly aware of Nicole’s leg placement between her thighs. As Nicole continued to nuzzle the nape of her neck, Waverly’s inhibitions all but disappeared. She felt desperate to take control of her arousal. So she lowered herself onto Nicole’s firm leg and rubbed against it without apology.

And felt only the faintest release of pressure.

But it was enough to completely lose sense of others in the house and release a loud, breathy moan into Nicole’s ear.

“Goddamn it,” Nicole said under her breath, grabbed her base layer from the floor, and left the bedroom. The unexpected change of events and abrupt loss of skin contact gave Waverly emotional whiplash.

“What the hell…?” She said breathlessly to an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a first time writer of fanfiction, I can't tell you how scary it is to post my writings online. I decided to do this after listening to DPC on the latest Tales of the Black Badge. She is the embodiment of emotional courage and this represents a small step in that direction for me. Receiving the kudos and comments has been a wonderful first time experience.
> 
> Thank you for sharing your excitement with me.


	3. Plan Ahead

**Chapter Three: Plan Ahead**

 

Nicole headed to the kitchen to pick up her gear when she was wrapped into a full hearted embrace from Wynonna. One of Nicole’s incurred losses from not dating Waverly anymore was the distance in her friendship with Wynonna. This hug was a rare treat, indeed, and it brought an instant smile to Nicole’s face.

“Haught stuff!” Wynonna swayed Nicole back and forth playfully and said, “Thank you for saving my life yesterday. I officially owe you a case of beers. Discount though. Costco brand.” She gave Nicole a pointed look. “Times are tough.”

Nicole laughed. “You owe me nothing,” she said with a smile. “You’ve saved me plenty.” She scanned Wynonna’s features. “You’re lookin’ good.”

“Why, thank you.” Wynonna wiggled her eyebrows. “So are you.” Wynonna gave Nicole a once over, blatantly checking her out. “I see you rockin’ this new Tomb Raider look, the red headed version. I approve.”

“Thanks.”

Wynonna chuckled. “I missed ya, lady. Where ya been? Join me for horrible coffee and a cheap breakfast. Better yet, make me breakfast! Your pancakes are always to die for.”

Nicole hesitated. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Earp. I needed to be at the station half hour ago. Angry Purgatorians eager to ask me questions I don’t have answers to.” She checked her cell phone. Read 18 voicemail messages. _Sigh_.

“I might have answers for you,” Wynonna said, her tone uncharacteristically grave as she casually looked down and picked at a pretend scab on her elbow. Nicole’s curiosity piqued.

“Call in. Let’s catch up.”

Just then, Nicole heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She definitely did not want to be in the same room as Waverly right now, but she did want to know what Wynonna knew. Especially if it could help her search for Nedley. She had a strong suspicion it might. She punched in the station on her cell phone and side swept Waverly on her way out of the kitchen, careful not to make eye contact or brush up against her.

 

*****

 

As soon as Nicole left to call the station, check on Lonnie, and then call the Purgatory Hospital—a daily routine—to check for any people matching Nedley’s description, Wynonna cleaned off the kitchen table from survival gear and covered it completely with food items.

Eggs. Flour. Sugar. Baking soda. Chocolate chips. Extra virgin olive oil. Milk.

She looked up at Waverly and gave her a big smile. Then frowned. “What’s with your neck?”

Waverly touched her sore neck and grimaced. “It’s nothing. You’re not gonna try to make breakfast, are you? We kinda can’t afford to waste food.” Waverly hoped her deflection worked. She was not interested in answering questions regarding what happened upstairs. She still wasn’t sure herself.

“Thanks for that, by the way, always my greatest supporter. And no. Nicole is.”

“I didn’t commit to that.”

Nicole averted Waverly’s gaze on the way in. Waverly noticed and was completely fine with that. Nicole’s armor was now fully up and whatever heated moment they had just shared had frosted over. _This_ was the roller coaster ride Waverly was familiar with. What had it been? Less than 2 minutes of being conscious in the same room before they’d gotten back on it? Peeved with herself, Waverly mentally cursed herself for getting back on it.

“Sure you did. You want answers. We want food. Tit for tat.” Wynonna winked at Nicole. “Now get to cookin’!”

“Fine. You have me for 30 minutes. But I want to know everything. So talk.”

Waverly watched Nicole wash her hands, open the containers, and mix the ingredients in a bowl. She placed a skillet on the stove top and within minutes, the sound of pancakes frying filled her ears. It was hard for Waverly to disregard the fact that Nicole’s expertise and ease around their kitchen was a direct result of many morning breakfasts just like today. Except instead of post-coital bliss, they were in perpetual argument. Angry with each other. Each hurt by the other.

Waverly’s resentment at being left upstairs had begun to subside. Without the emotion to cloud her logic, she now understood why Nicole left the room. Why Nicole didn’t want to be near her or talk to her or listen to her.

No, none of that was confusing. What remained confusing was the way Nicole had taken her against the bedroom door. The fact that Nicole had gone straight for her neck knowing full well the effect it would have on Waverly. What was confusing was Nicole’s ability to be aggressive and caring at the same time. But most of all, Waverly was confused that Nicole had refused to kiss her. Even in the thick of their fights, amidst their all-consuming anger, a kiss had always been their route to reconnecting emotionally. It anchored their anger somehow. Without it, the moment had felt different. Impersonal. She felt as if she’d been used and discarded.

What was going on in Nicole’s head these days that she would act that way toward Waverly? Had 6 weeks changed her ex-lover that much? And would they address what had happened or would they add it to the recycle bin like everything else they did these days?

 

***** 

 

In the hour since breakfast, the snow storm had picked up significantly. With each howl and whistle from the wind, the walls of the Earp homestead felt like they were being pushed back and forth. Visibility to her truck was low. The sky and the land blended to form a massive wall of whiteness. Nicole was sure her vehicle was covered in about a foot of snow by now, which meant Nicole wasn’t leaving any time soon.

In a previous lifetime, Nicole wouldn’t have minded being stuck in the Earp homestead, but after her encounter with Waverly, her mind was on edge and she needed distance to recover. She felt frustrated and enraged with herself for once again falling into the same patterns that had left them both so emotionally spent the first time around. Had she learned nothing in 6 weeks?

Nicole sighed deeply. The truth was that she hadn’t learn anything at all because, for the last 6 weeks, she had tried her hardest to keep Waverly out of her mind. So much had happened. So much had been said that when they finally broke up, Nicole’s level of hurt was not something that could be rationalized or analyzed. It could only be felt. And Nicole hadn’t had the emotional reserve for it. All of it had been spent in arguing. So she buried herself in her job and bad decision-making and 3 weeks later, the blizzard arrived, Nedley was gone, and she had taken on the responsibilities of Acting Sheriff over a town riddled with fear. _There went processing._

Nicole added logs to the fireplace in the homestead living room and tended to the fire for a minute, silently struggling to put things into mental order. Lonnie was blowing up her phone with questions about how to file reports for safety concerns, what to say to the coordinator of UNICEF, how to manage residents who call about falling power lines. Meanwhile, he had made the wonderful decision to forward these people her private cell phone number. So now she had two dozen text messages and voice mail messages from angry citizens wanting the same information.

_It’s your own fault for not being at the station._ True enough. She just wished her coworker could be somewhat self-sufficient.

As Nicole stoked the fire, Wynonna and Waverly lounged comfortably on the sofas.

“Barron Lakes is the place,” Wynonna said, interrupting Nicole’s thoughts. “That’s where we need to go.”

_Barron Lakes_ , Nicole thought. Sounded familiar.

“How come? What’s there?” Nicole asked.

“There’s an old revenant named Maxwell who lives in a cabin somewhere near the lake. Rumor has it Maxwell has the ability to control the weather. Something about homoerotic lithium.”

“She means homeostatic disequilibrium,” Waverly corrected.

“Eh, close enough,” Wynonna said, brushing the term off. “It’s all very scientific. And I shouldn’t be expected to remember _everything_ that comes out of Jeremy’s mouth.”

“You’re working with Jeremy?”

“And Dolls,” Waverly added. “Mostly through Skype.”

“The _point_ is,” Wynonna emphasized, “I think Maxwell’s responsible for this god awful supernatural weather and if we get to him, we end the Purgatory blizzard.”

Nicole narrowed her eyes. “What does this have to with Nedley? Or with how revenants can suddenly enter the homestead? Or why you need me? I don’t do supernatural hunting, remember? That’s why you guys are the professionals.” Nicole struggled to reign in the sarcasm at the end.

Wynonna opened her mouth to speak but Waverly cut her off, her eyes firmly on Nicole. “We need you to help us get to the lake. Find Maxwell’s cabin so we can shoot him dead. In this terrain and with this weather, you know the northern side better than anyone else. You’ve been up and down those mountains countless times… according to people in town.”

Nicole realized the Earp sisters had done their homework. While Nicole had been searching for Nedley, they’d been searching for a way to end the blizzard. Ending the blizzard potentially meant finding Nedley. Hopefully, alive.

“And the revenants?”

Waverly glanced at Wynonna. Hesitantly, she stated, “We think the Ghost River Triangle is in a state of disequilibrium. Meaning, all of the supernatural rules of the Triangle are in some kind of flux. Things that used to be absolute truths are no longer necessarily true. Like… the ammolite in the homestead!” Waverly licked her dry lips, feeling the weight of Nicole’s gaze.

“It means things that were impossible… are now possible,” Wynonna added gravely.

“But why now?” Nicole asked in frustration. “If this revenant was so powerful… this whole time… then where’s he been? Why do this now? What’s changed?”

Waverly and Wynonna exchanged a look, and Waverly shook her head. “We don’t know.” That was not the reassuring answer Nicole was looking for.

Nicole chewed the inside of her cheek in contemplation. She narrowed her eyes at Waverly. If she was understanding the implication of this…

“If the rules of the… Purgatory curse… have changed, then that means much more than just the weather pattern, doesn’t it?”

“This weather’s just the beginning,” Waverly answered. “I mean, potentially—black holes, worm holes, things vanishing into the atmosphere, returning on the other side of the planet. Who knows what happens if it just keeps going… if the state of disequilibrium intensifies and starts to leak outside of Purgatory,  _theoretically_ , it could mean worldwide entropy.”

Nicole stood up and sighed deeply, her mind racing a mile a minute. “Sometimes you just want to know less, you know?” she said aloud rhetorically. She had enough on her plate with Purgatorian residents and Nedley missing. Everything always ended up more complicated when the Earp sisters were involved. Why couldn’t it just be a simple, freaky-long blizzard anomaly? Why did it have to be supernatural?

“Because, of course,” Nicole said aloud, responding to her thoughts. “OK. That mountain road is definitely frozen,” Nicole said, still talking to herself. “The ride up will be dangerous. Like an icy slip and slide.”

“We know,” Wynonna said, not batting an eye. “Which is why we need you, Haught. And your military expertise. Waves and I… we’d be popsicles half a drive up.”

Nicole took a second to examine the possibilities. It was clear Waverly and Wynonna would likely not make it without her assistance. And if she was being honest with herself, she knew she would do everything within her power to protect the Earp sisters. Besides, her inner thrill seeker was game for an adventure, dangerous as it might be. Nicole cracked a small smirk.

“OK, I’m in. We’re going to need supplies and a game plan.”

“Yes!” Wynonna jumped up. “Let’s catch ourselves demon trout.”

 

*****

 

Nicole Haught absolutely loved gear. Whether it was buying, up-trading, or crafting it herself, Nicole loved the feeling of owning good quality gear. She could spend hours and hours at their local sporting goods store examining the newest down quilted sleeping bag, the latest hydration pack, or the most updated EMP-resistant navigation system. She wouldn’t admit to being a survivalist—it’s not like she was waiting for the Purgatory Apocalypse to hit; that ship was in full sail—but she enjoyed knowing that she was prepared for any occasion Mother Earth could throw her way.

It was why she had been more than ready when the blizzard hit 6 weeks ago.

It was also why she was internally crying knowing that they were about to face a snow storm in a beaten up truck and traverse a dangerous mountain to fight a powerful revenant… with practically no gear.

“Wynonna, we need a tent, 3 sleeping bags with sleeping pads, 3 backpacks, 3 flashlights, extra batteries, 5 gallons of water 4/5ths full, non-perishable food, knives, and a map.” 

“Yeah,” Wynonna scratched her head. “I think we have some blankets, a kitchen knife, and a… Toaster Strudel?”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Waverly rolled her eyes at Wynonna. “We’ve got some stuff stored in the barn, Nicole. Some of your old gear. I’ll get it.” Waverly refused to look at Nicole and walked away.

Nicole followed her, calling out to Wynonna, “At least pack warm.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Wynonna responded with a blasé salute. “Bossy town,” she sang under her breath when they left the room.

Standing by the back door, Waverly pulled out her coat from the storage closet and put it on. “I can do this on my own,” she shot at Nicole. “It’s just a trunk of gear.”

“I know,” Nicole said softly, dismissing Waverly’s indignation. “But I don’t want you going at it alone. I rather we be safe.”

“You give me emotional whiplash, you know that?” Waverly huffed before giving the door a forceful tug and stepping into the white out. Nicole pursued.

 

*****

 

The wind beat both of them mercilessly, causing them to sway and struggle for their footing in the snow. The ice bit cruelly into Nicole’s bare face. Despite her base layer, fleece coat, and thermal underwear, she shivered. Was it her imagination, or was it several degrees _colder_?

They reached the barn and quickly sought refuge inside. When the latch was secured, Nicole turned around to catch Waverly regarding her with demanding eyes and arms crossed in front of her chest. Nicole groaned audibly.

“No. No more fighting, Waverly. Please. If we are to survive the next few days in dangerous weather, we have to at least pretend to get along.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me,” Waverly began curtly, “I agree. So let’s lay down some rules before we go.”

As if rules ever worked for them in the past. Nicole was tempted to laugh but thought better of it. “Fine. What are your rules this time?”

“Well,” Waverly cleared her throat. “How about, for starters… no more neck biting!”

Nicole didn’t miss a beat. “Done. Anything else?”

Waverly flushed red. “Good. And no more silent treatment. We need to start communicating better. I promise to tell you what I am thinking and what I’m feeling in the present moment.” Waverly sounded like she’d read a book on healthy communication. “Nothing from the past. As long as you’re willing to do so, too. I need to know we’re on the same page.”

Smiling softly, Nicole nodded and then quietly added without looking at Waverly, “No kissing. No longing looks. No touching me… Anywhere.” Nicole swallowed and licked her lips, her voice faltering slightly as she said, “No moaning in my ear. And no bringing up the past.”

Waverly chewed her bottom lip as she contemplated the additional rules for a second before nodding in agreement.

“OK, then. Let’s get the gear and go, I’m freezing my ass off.”

Inside the trunk, Nicole found a headlight, a sleeping bag for two, a crank generator, and a fire-starting kit. It was gear she had originally brought over to take Waverly on a camping date in the woods. Useful then. Definitely not ideal now, Nicole thought, wishing for more, but this was better than nothing.

It felt comforting to plan ahead, she thought, for once not referring to the gear.


	4. Prepare for Disaster

**Chapter Four: Prepare for Disaster**

 

“Before we go, I need to stop by the station really quick. Check on Lonnie. Make sure he hasn’t injured himself.” While at the station, Nicole was also planning to grab more gear. Their current supply was pitiful. They had packed their things into Nicole’s truck because Waverly’s jeep and Wynonna’s truck were not in working condition for the mountainous terrain. 

When Nicole turned into the station, she immediately knew something was wrong. The door to the station was unhinged and swinging, indoor lights were off, and a slit power cable had dropped over the roof. “Stay here,” she instructed the Earp sisters, “I’m going to go check it out.”

“Like hell!” she heard both sisters say simultaneously.

They all ran inside the station. It was Nicole’s worst OCPD-like nightmare. The place had been ransacked. Papers and files and office supplies of all colors and sizes thrown everywhere. And not a soul in sight to claim responsibility or bring the smack down. 

“You leave one person in charge for _one_ minute,” Nicole said, fuming as she stormed through the office. “Lonnie!” This was not reflecting well on her as Acting Sheriff.

“Hey, boss!” he said in the most nonchalant tone Nicole had ever heard. He breezed in through the double doors, clicked his blue ballpoint pen a few times, and motioned around the room. “So… this happened?”

Wynonna and Waverly prayed silently for Lonnie’s soul as they witnessed Nicole strategize how she wanted to approach Lonnie in this moment. She stared at him, flabbergasted and fuming for what felt like a Purgatorian eternity, and then inhaled a deep breath.

“Lonnie. How is it that in less than 24 hours…?” No. She knew the answer to that one. She started again. “Lonnie, what happened?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“I’m sure we can keep up. Try us,” Wynonna said.

Lonnie sighed and scratched his head. “These four dudes pulled up, literally shot up the place,” he motioned above his head. Sure enough, there were bullet holes on the ceiling. “Everyone bugged out. They cut the power, ransacked everything… and ate your leftovers, Officer Haught, sorry about that. I couldn’t stop them.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” she said tightly through her teeth.

“I kept calling you.” _Must have been voice mail message #19._

“When did this happen?” Wynonna asked.

“Just half hour ago.”

“What did they want?” Waverly asked. “Did they take anything?”

As soon as Waverly mentioned that, Nicole rushed to the safe in the Sheriff’s office. She stepped over broken glass and walked behind his desk, revealing the hidden gun safe. She examined the safe. It was unopened and untampered with. Anything of value would have been in there, so what the hell was the point of shooting up the police station?

Wynonna was beside Nicole with Waverly at the door. “Could this be a macho message about not letting a woman be Sheriff?” Nicole questioned Wynonna, kicking herself for revealing her insecurities. But she was otherwise at a complete loss for an explanation.

“Or maybe just a bored, stupid macho thing. Period,” Wynonna responded.

Waverly turned to Lonnie, who was now fixing himself a sandwich in the kitchen.

“Were any of the four men bleeding?” Waverly asked Lonnie. “And did they say anything?”

Lonnie hesitated, seemingly attempting to recall the ordeal. “Well, now that you mention it. _Two_ of them were bleeding. They were all pretty beat up actually. Besides cussing Deputy Haught’s name, they didn’t say anything specific.”

“It was the revenants from last night,” Waverly concluded. She looked at Nicole and Wynonna. “They have a hit on us. First, they hit the homestead. Then the police station. This is personal and targeted.”

“Revenants?” Lonnie looked confused and appropriately worried.

“Thank you, Lonnie!” Wynonna said uncharacteristically sweet and closed the windowless door so that she, Waverly, and Nicole could speak privately. They gave Wynonna a pointed look but she shrugged it off and lowered her voice. “What’s more disconcerting is that he said 4. Waves, I could’ve sworn—didn’t I shoot one?” Waverly gasped.

“I don’t think Peacemaker is working anymore, Wynonna.”

“Well, mother F! That’s not fair.”

“This changes our plans,” Nicole interjected. “If we go to the Barron Lakes and find Maxwell without Peacemaker, what do we do? Ask him politely to stop messing with our weather system?”

“We can tie him up and punch him in the gonads.” Wynonna had an obvious “duh” on her face.

“Mmm. Sounds kinky,” Waverly slipped in.

“But ineffective long term,” Nicole responded, shooting Waverly a look. “We need to regroup, get Jeremy, Dolls, _and_ Doc involved, find out what’s happening and why. Then we go on offense.”

 

*****

 

Within the half hour since arriving at the station, the snow had doubled on the ground. It was now impossible to travel anywhere. The weather was definitely worsening and Nicole was extremely concerned about Purgatory’s citizens, especially those without food, limited water, and living in suboptimal conditions for this blizzard. Nicole had left Wynonna and Waverly to call up the rest of the gang as she assessed the damage to the landlines. Purgatory had unreliable cellphone service to begin with so their only hope would be old school communication.

Combing through the snow in the back of the police station, Nicole walked parallel to the chain link fence and tracked the underground cable lines, discovering them exposed to the elements and damaged. Someone took the time to search for them and deliberately cut them. 

“Goddamn it. Can we not catch a break!”

“Nicole!” she heard Wynonna from inside the station and quickly turned her body in the direction of the building. Just as she did, a jagged edge to the chain-link fence she hadn’t previously seen nicked into the side of her left thigh. “Ow!” She winced, looking down at the cut. The edge of the fence had cut through her skin like butter, leaving a nasty gash.

_That’s what you get for asking for a break, Haught._

Nicole pressed her hand firmly into her wound to stop the bleeding and hobbled back into the station.

“What is it, Earp?”

Wynonna raised her hands in defeat. “No luck with Doc, Dolls, or Jer—” she stopped, noticing Nicole’s pained expression. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

Waverly looked up from her laptop computer.

Nicole dismissed it with a wave. “It’s nothing. I’ll take care of it. So you can’t reach anyone? So we’re basically outnumbered and with no plan.” She huffed. “This is going to shit so fast.”

“Hey!” Wynonna responded, tired of Nicole’s recent standoffish behavior toward her. This was not the friend she remembered. Wynonna stood right in front of Nicole and demanded eye contact. “I know we’re in hot shit. And I also know _you’re_ Haught shit. But don’t push people away when they express concern over you. That’s how you end up, not only alone, but _lonely_.” She tapped the sides of Nicole’s shoulders. “Learn that lesson from my example, OK?” Wynonna took a few steps, softening her facial features. “Get cleaned up, Haught. We have time. There’s nowhere to go anyway.”

Nicole and Waverly shared a passing look as Nicole retreated to her office.

 

*****

 

Nicole realized that Wynonna’s words cut deeper than the current gash on her thigh. Because of their accuracy. It started before her break up with Waverly and only got worse afterwards. Without her noticing, something had changed in the last few months for Nicole. An emotional shift had hardened her and she was unwilling to be vulnerable. With Waverly or with anyone, apparently. It bothered Nicole because even though she was self-sufficient, she valued vulnerability and connection. But somehow, she was on some predetermined track she couldn’t get off.

Nicole sat on the couch in her office, the couch that reminded her of Waverly’s kisses, the couch that launched their relationship. She had moved it from Nedley’s office when he had decided to toss it. She had been unable to part with it.

She opened the first aid kit beside her and pulled out a large gauze pad, duct tape, a syringe, and hydrogen peroxide. As Nicole unbuckled her belt and lowered her pants to make space for her to clean and dress the wound, she heard the door open softly. Waverly slipped in and closed the door with a gentle _click._ Nicole’s heart rate picked up.

“So this is your office, Acting Sheriff Haught,” Waverly mused lightheartedly, walking around the room and examining the decor. It was very tidy, which did not surprise Waverly. Everything was immaculate, well organized, and filed with even a stack of random papers neatly tucked in a bin labeled “To File.” But somehow the room felt like it was missing warmth. The only personalization was a single framed photo on the side of the desk. Waverly picked it up and Nicole immediately looked away.

A faded picture of Nicole wrapping her arms around Waverly, with Wynonna, _of course_ , making a dramatic face in the background. Their smiles were contagious and free spirited. Younger versions of themselves who had no idea what would be in store for them only months later. They had taken this picture at what could now be deemed the peak of their relationship. Significantly less complicated times.

Looking at the picture now stirred something complex in Waverly. It wasn’t the picture itself but the fact that Nicole had kept it, for all this time, despite their breakup. Waverly imagined Nicole coming into contact with this picture every day at work. She envisioned the significance of this picture changing over the course of their relationship, and again after they broke up. What did this picture mean to Nicole now? Was it symbolic? Did it represent something?

Nicole fixated on her wound, pretending to ignore Waverly but keenly perceiving all of her movements. She pulled hydrogen peroxide through a syringe and slowly squeezed its contents onto the wound, hissing when the liquid came into contact with her skin. Waverly replaced the picture and stopped in front of Nicole’s desk, which was positioned several feet across from the couch, and leaned against it, careful to maintain her distance from Nicole. The room had grown tense in the silence.

“Let me help you with that,” Waverly offered.

“No, thank you.” Nicole actively suppressed Wynonna’s earlier words of wisdom regarding not letting people care for her. It was too much having Waverly standing in front of her in her office, looking as gorgeous as ever in jeans and a tight purple turtleneck that traced her figure and accented the curves Nicole had never forgotten. She couldn’t handle having Waverly so physically close and tending to her wound.

Waverly chewed her lip in contemplation and fixed her eyes on Nicole. “Funny thing about being stuck in this station without power, reception, or Candy Crush. Nothing much to do but talk.”

Nicole pressed the gauze pad firmly on her thigh and bit back a reaction. “I thought we were trying to avoid discussing the past. In fact, I think that was explicitly one of my rules.” Nicole re-packed the first aid kit and placed it on her side. She steeled herself and finally met Waverly’s eyes.

“We’ve never been very good at following rules,” was Waverly’s response.

Nicole took an uncertain breath. She felt emotionally raw and exposed under Waverly’s heated look. There was nowhere to escape, nothing to do but talk civilly. But Nicole’s emotions were threatening to overpower her. It was all too much and she was losing the ability to contain the effects of the last 24 hours. Of hearing from Waverly in distress after 6 weeks of no communication. Of saving Wynonna and Waverly from a revenant assault and hypothermia. Of finding out about revenant-Weather Man and the ransacked office and the worsening weather and the lack of plan and resources and—

“Waverly, for both of our sakes, let’s really try this time. I don’t feel—I can’t—I don’t trust myself around you.” Nicole clenched her jaw, annoyed with the desperation that leaked into her voice and what that revealed about her.

Waverly’s face had grown concerned. She watched Nicole carefully. “Why is that, Nicole? Why don’t you trust yourself?”

Nicole exhaled. _Fuck it. You want to talk? Let’s talk._

“Because every time I see you, every time I’m near you, my body betrays me. I tell it to not want you and it disobeys.” Nicole dragged her gaze away, unable to look at Waverly. “I just want agency, Waverly. I want to be able to decide what’s good for me. And when I’m near you, I don’t know anymore.”

“ _You_ broke up with _me_ ,” Waverly shot back, confused.

“Because we were not good for each other.”

“I disagree. We couldn’t get passed it. Until what happened, we were very good for each other.”

“Sexually,” Nicole clarified angrily. “But emotionally, we were a disaster.”

Waverly’s defenses went up. “I recall you were the one to shut me out emotionally.”

“After you kissed Rosita and called Champ Hardy for emotional comfort _after_ I told you about my past with unfaithful partners.” Nicole’s voice shook with hurt but she stubbornly refused to let a single tear collect in her eyes.

“If only we could have gotten past that—” Waverly offered, but Nicole cut her off.

“How were we ever supposed to get past that when you were emotionally unavailable? When every time I wanted to talk, you just wanted sex. Sex: The magical cure-all.”

Waverly had had enough of the accusations, of constantly being blamed and feeling guilty for her mistakes. Was she not allowed to be human? Did she have to be shamed for it forever more, like an axe perpetually over her head?

“OK, Nicole, you’re right. I don’t do emotional conversations very well. Have you _seen_ my family dynamics? We are not good at that. But I didn’t want sex just to shut you up. I wanted it to help us reconnect. And instead, you rejected me. The same way you did this morning. Over and over. It made me feel unwanted, and I had no way of getting back to you after that.” Waverly shook her head, tears held in her eyes, her face burning hot.

“Maybe we are dysfunctional. But I was in love with you, Nicole Haught.” Waverly said, failing to steady her emotion and angrily dismissing a falling tear. “I’m still in love with you.” She fixed her eyes sharply on Nicole. “Even when you’re cold to me. Even when you hurt me.”

Without thinking any further, Waverly pushed off from the desk, which resulted in the furniture squeaking harshly against the floor, and left Nicole’s office.


	5. Survive Emotionally

**Chapter Five: Survive Emotionally**

_“Hey, baby,” Waverly whispered hotly into Nicole’s ear. She wrapped her arms around Nicole’s waist and gazed into her lover’s eyes through the mirror. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror in nothing but a bra and blue boy shorts, Waverly’s arrival had interrupted her thoughts. Nicole had been lost in thought frequently lately._

_“Hey, gorgeous,” Nicole responded warmly, hoping that her attempt at a smile was successful. Waverly didn’t seem to notice. “Have the guys arrived yet?”_

_Waverly rolled her eyes. “Jeremy has, but Doc and Dolls are about 20 minutes out.”_

_“…which means Wynonna is going crazy deciding what to wear and how to look like she’s not actively trying to impress both of them?”_

_“Actually,” Waverly said, placing a kiss between Nicole’s shoulder blades and slowly snaking her hand to the edge of Nicole’s boy shorts, “it means we have 18 precious minutes to spare and connect before they arrive.” Waverly watched Nicole as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as soon as Waverly’s fingertips grazed the skin at the edge of Nicole’s shorts. “Look at me, baby. Is this OK?” Waverly swallowed, awaiting her lover’s response._

_Nicole turned to meet her eyes. “I appreciate the offer, Waves. I really do. Maybe we can talk instead?” Waverly looked down, struggling to hide her hurt. “Of course. Where did we last leave off?”_

_Nicole felt Waverly distancing herself. Her smile disappeared, replaced with guardedness, as if she was expecting to be attacked. Nicole mentally kicked herself. Perhaps Waverly was right. They talked and processed and rehashed every day about what led to Waverly kissing Rosita and then calling Champ for support. Then they cried together, made love, and did it all over again the next day._

_Maybe talking isn’t helpful anymore, Nicole concluded. Maybe it’s doing more damage than good._

_“You know what? Never mind. I think your first idea was better.” She reached for Waverly’s hand and pulled her closer, kissing her passionately as soon as their lips met. Waverly grinned through their kiss, enthusiastically responding, “Yeah?”_

_“Yeah.” Nicole led Waverly to the bed, removed her boy shorts before discarding Waverly’s thong, and allowed herself to dissipate into the blissful oblivion of passionate sex with Waverly. If only for 18 minutes, she didn’t have to think about the weight on her soul and run the same circles of insecurities in her mind. She could just satisfy Waverly, kiss her, lick her, finger her until she orgasmed. And if Waverly was happy, then she could be happy, right? Except the 18 minutes were up and their orgasms had subsided. Yet the sense of loss, jealousy, and disconnection pervaded._

_*****_

_Waverly noticed Nicole staring into the mirror for the last few minutes. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror wearing only a bra and cute boy shorts that hugged her hips, Waverly felt an overwhelming need to reconnect with her lover. They had been fighting on and off for the last few weeks over Rosita and Champ and she anxiously needed confirmation that they were going to be OK. That they could get past this. She just had to help Nicole get out of her own head._

_“Hey, baby,” Waverly whispered seductively into Nicole’s ear. She wrapped her arms around Nicole’s waist and gazed into her lover’s eyes through the mirror._

_“Hey, gorgeous.” Nicole’s response was a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Waverly tried very hard to disregard that observation. “Have the guys arrived yet?”_

_Waverly rolled her eyes, sensing Nicole’s deflection. “Jeremy has, but Doc and Dolls are about 20 minutes out.”_

_“…which means Wynonna is going crazy deciding what to wear and how to look like she’s not actively trying to impress both of them?”_

_“Actually,” Waverly said, steering the conversation in a different direction. She placed an unhurried kiss between Nicole’s shoulder blades and trailed her fingertips across Nicole’s hips to rest on her boy shorts, “it means we have 18 precious minutes to spare and connect before they arrive.” Waverly’s heart skipped excitedly when Nicole took a deep breath as soon as Waverly’s fingertips grazed the edge of Nicole’s shorts. Nicole’s inability to stifle her arousal emboldened Waverly._

_“Look at me, baby,” she whispered, “Is this OK?” Even though she had posed it, the question made Waverly feel extremely vulnerable. Awaiting her lover’s response felt like an eternity and she tried hard not to let it mean anything if Nicole said no again._

_Nicole turned around to meet her eyes. “I appreciate the offer, Waves.” Her heart dropped. “…Maybe we can talk instead?” Waverly looked away and tried to recompose herself. How much more rejection could she reasonably take before her self-esteem crumbled?_

_Does she not want me anymore? Waverly thought, but didn’t dare ask for fear of hearing exactly that. She shook off her hurt as best she could and casually responded, “Of course. Where did we last leave off?” She could see herself beginning to shut down emotionally and she couldn’t stop herself. The rejection felt all consuming. Waverly felt angry with Nicole. Instead of using this time to reconnect, they were going to do what they always did. Rehash the past, get nowhere, feel horribly, do it all over again tomorrow. Why couldn’t Nicole just_ forgive _her?_

_“You know what? Never mind. I think your first idea was better.” She grabbed Waverly’s hand and pulled her against her, kissing her deeply. Waverly grinned, unbelievably excited at the turn of events. “Yeah?”_

_“Yeah.” Nicole walked Waverly over to the bed, hastily removed her boy shorts and discarded Waverly’s thong under her skirt. The excitement of promised lovemaking dissolved, however, as soon as Nicole kissed her. As Nicole gently bit Waverly’s lower lip, Waverly sensed Nicole retreating further and further away. It didn’t matter when Waverly went down on Nicole and brought her to orgasm. It didn’t matter when Waverly clawed desperately at Nicole’s skin, or whispered sweet nothings into her ear when Nicole fingered her. It didn’t matter because Nicole’s eyes had glazed over long before then. Waverly could no longer reach her emotionally. And their lovemaking no longer had any meaning._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Endure Physically**

“Finally! What took you guys so long?” Wynonna shouted as Doc and Jeremy pulled up to the front of the station. At some point during the night, cell phone reception had mysteriously returned and she was able to alert the team to meet at the station for an Apocalypse-sized strategy session.

“Hello to you, too, darlin’!” Doc Holliday retorted with sarcastic indignation.

“We literally had to remove 6 feet of snow to get Charlene going,” Jeremy emphasized, making sure Wynonna knew just how much hard work went into arriving to the station this morning.

“You were at his house?”

“Yeah! Is that weird?” Jeremy grinned.

Wynonna shook her head, having nothing clever to say. “Well, Dolls is here. So now that the family’s all together, let’s get this shit show on the road, shall we?!”

The blizzard had lasted all night and the station had been eerily quiet. Quiet and cold. And not physically cold. Wynonna had noticed how Nicole and Waverly never spoke a word _to_ each other after whatever they talked about in Nicole’s office. Nicole had built a fire and fortunately had enough provisions in her military backpack to settle everyone’s ravenous appetite, including Lonnie’s. Wynonna and Waverly had slept uncomfortably in the sleeping bag for two with Waverly’s restlessness and dreams keeping Wynonna up half the night. As a result, Wynonna woke up cranky, sober, de-caffeinated, and her hair was not looking super great. She needed a nice, long, warm shower.

She was motivated as hell to get this Weather Revenant dead or subdued as quickly as possible. Her hair’s health depended on it.

Inside the station, Nicole and Dolls discussed strategy as Waverly heated an MRE packet. A big map of Purgatory was spread out on the table, held by staplers on each corner.

“OK, we’re all here. Orientation for the newbies,” Wynonna said, walking into the station with Doc and Jeremy behind her. 

“Morning, everyone,” Dolls said politely. “Here’s the status. We have a revenant named Maxwell up by the Barron Lakes in the mountains who we think is controlling the weather. A few days ago, revenants attacked the homestead. Showed us that Peace Maker may not be working. Or the ammolite. Plan A is to try Peace Maker—sometimes, it’s temperamental.” Dolls shot Wynonna a knowing look. _As temperamental as its owner._ “If that doesn’t work, Plan B is to light him up. Courtesy of _moi_.” Dolls flashed his pearly whites with an adorable grin. “Plan C is to subdue him, possibly torture him until we get him to stop.”

“I’m not comfortable with Plan C,” Nicole interjected, “for the record.”

“Me, neither,” Jeremy added.

“That’s why you won’t be involved, Officer Haught. You have work to do here. Purgatory citizens depend on you and this station. Jeremy’s your backup.”

“Thank God,” Jeremy whispered.

“You’re leaving me out?” Nicole scoffed.

“It’s the logical, most pragmatic decision,” Dolls defended.

“Of course. Why am I not surprised? Leave the supernatural hunting to the professionals, right, Wynonna?” Nicole shook her head and walked away from the group.

Waverly looked around the group, torn between following Nicole or staying with the group. “What’s my role in this?" 

“You are staying right here, baby girl. If Peace Maker doesn’t work, it puts you unnecessarily at risk. I can’t let that happen.” Wynonna reached for Waverly’s hands and privately added so only Waverly could hear, “Please don’t fight me on this. I need to know you’re safe.”

“OK, I’ll stay with Nicole. Help around here.”

Wynonna was briefly taken aback by Waverly’s lack of resistance, but figured whatever her reasons, at least Waverly would be safe. She mouthed a silent Thank You to Waverly.

“Alright,” Dolls said, “it’s settled. Wynonna, Doc, and I will go up the mountain and fix this with Maxwell. Waverly and Jeremy, we keep contact through comms. Pending weather, we should be back in no later than 72 hours.”

“Do we have everything we need?”

Dolls smiled at Wynonna. “Do you know me? I’m all about the gear baby,” he said, casually lifting two massive overly packed military backpacks like they were fanny packs.

Doc rolled his eyes.

 

***** 

 

_What was the point of asking me to join them in the first place if they were going to kick me to the curb the minute Dolls arrived?_ Nicole was furious. Furious and hurt at being left behind. This was not the first time she felt her military abilities were taken for granted. Although she couldn’t argue with the logic that Purgatory citizens would not fare well without her for a few days—look what happened after one day with Lonnie—she still couldn’t stop the feeling of being considered obsolete to the group. She was _not_ obsolete!

“Goddamn it,” Nicole said aloud, responding to her thoughts and startling Waverly.

“Everything OK?” Waverly asked hesitantly.

“Sorry. Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Nicole returned to the wall of information about Nedley in front of her and then quickly slammed her pen on the table. “No! Actually, everything is not fine! Why did you guys seek me out if you weren’t planning on having me join you? ‘We need you, Haught. We need your military experience. We’ll be popsicles without you, Haught.’ What was the point of all that?” She realized she sounded like a whiner. But, all this time, she could have been looking for Nedley, goddamn it.

“You know how Wynonna is. Plans change, Nicole. You _are_ still needed. You’re just needed here, that’s all.”

Nicole gripped the edge of her desk, hung her head, and sighed. “I’m _not_ obsolete,” she said, her voice cracking.

“No one ever said you were.”

“I feel obsolete.”

“You’re not obsolete,” Waverly emphasized soothingly. She approached Nicole cautiously and stopped just inches beside her. Their last conversation had left Waverly feeling completely naked. She had told Nicole she still loved her and Nicole had not said a word about it to her since. Not that Waverly was expecting a response, or even for them to talk about it anymore at this point. Apparently, she was a sucker for emotional vulnerability this week because a force she couldn’t explain drew her to Nicole. It was a force that pushed Waverly to make amends with Nicole. The same force, that in this moment, prompted Waverly to soothe Nicole’s inner demons.

“You are useful and extremely needed, Nicole,” Waverly said, “ _I_ need you.”

Nicole didn’t say anything so Waverly continued.

“Why do you think I called you that night? I could’ve called Dolls or Doc, but I wanted you. You have always been the one I go to when I need protection. When I need emotional support. Outside of that one stupid mistake with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, you were always my person. You still are.” The last part was barely audible.

“Why did you go to him that time?” Nicole asked, genuinely interested in knowing. Perhaps because Nicole looked like a child who hadn’t made the basketball team and Waverly felt the desire to comfort her, or perhaps because there was no accusation in her tone, just wonderment, Waverly felt safe to answer Nicole honestly and without defensiveness.

“The night we argued… you implied I was emotionally detached.”

“I don’t—" 

“But you did,” she cut off Nicole with a hand on her forearm. “I went to him to ask him if that’s how he felt when we were together. I thought to myself, _how awful for a partner to always feel emotionally neglected._ I wanted to know if it was a pattern. I wanted to hear it from someone whose words wouldn’t trigger me in the moment. He was predictably unhelpful, but that’s beside the point. I didn’t go to him for comfort. I went to him for confirmation.”

Nicole’s eyes widened as she absorbed what Waverly had said, her thoughts and feelings scattered in a dozen different directions. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Nicole, I did,” Waverly said with an incredulous smile, “Several times, in fact. But whenever we started talking about him, your jealousy would shut it down. It was literally impossible to convince you.”

“You make me sound like an asshole.”

“No,” Waverly said pointedly, shaking her head. “You were just hurting. And I get that. Heated emotions can distort things, make us see what we want to see. Or hear what we want to hear.” Nicole digested her words carefully.

“I didn’t—I don’t believe you’re emotionally detached. I just said that out of—”

“Anger? I know.”

Nicole seemed genuinely perplexed, as if she had no memory of their prior heated arguments. Waverly turned to Nicole and searched her eyes. It had been a long time since Waverly had seen Nicole this way. This willing to be open and authentic with her emotions. It brought up old memories of how easy it used to be between them, before Rosita and Champ happened, when things were less heavy and they were both equally willing to be honest.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole, Waves.”

_I’m sorry about a lot of things_ , Waverly thought.

“I appreciate your words.”

Waverly smiled. She didn’t have anything left in her to give to Nicole. She was emotionally exhausted. She had spoken her greatest truth and, if things were going to go any further, Nicole would have to be the one to make the next move. There was honor in being vulnerable, but Waverly could no longer leave her heart so exposed. She had to get better at protecting it. For her sanity’s sake. 

Waverly pointed at the wall full of newspaper clippings and time lines. “So tell me more about this wall. What have you found on Nedley?”

 

*****

 

Six weeks ago, Sheriff Randy Nedley placed Nicole Haught in charge of the Purgatory police department and drove up to his winter cabin with plans of a vacation. It was a modest one-floor cabin in the thick of the woods—a paradise for a hermit, an antisocial, or an old man ready to hang up his hat and spend time in blissful solitude. Nicole would never forget her first night as Acting Sheriff. It was the night a horrible blizzard changed the town’s landscape with inexplicable snow fall and the wildest winds Purgatory citizens had ever witnessed. Nicole would never forget that night not only because of the strange weather pattern but because that was the night she and Waverly broke up.

Nicole shook her head and refocused her thoughts.

Three weeks after his vacation, when he was scheduled to return to work, Nicole realized that Nedley had gone missing. Braving the elements, she went in search of him at his cabin and found it unsecured and vandalized. No blood. No sign of a physical struggle. Had it been looters or asshole revenants?

The driveway entrance to the cabin was unpaved, covered in about 3 feet of snow at the time, and guarded by a corroding chain link fence. Nicole had later noted this detail when she went in search of him because Randy Nedley paved the entrance to his cabin every day while on vacation. Rain, shine, or hail. It was the first item on his To-Do list.

From what she could gather by retracing his movement, at some point during his vacation, for some unknown reason, Nedley drove to a store 20 miles south of his cabin, in the middle of another surging blizzard, and picked up a few items—generator fuel, ammunition, and a carrot cake. That was the last time he'd been seen.

She searched for him and his vehicle, but the continuous snowfall and intermittent blizzards delayed everything. She hadn’t slept since.

“Could’ve sworn he hated carrot cake,” Waverly said, tearing Nicole away from her thoughts.

Nicole nodded. “He did—does.”

“Of all the stores nearest to him, why did he decide to stop at that one? Anything we know about that place?”

“Well,” Nicole said, “I found out it’s run by a Revenant. But that place is usually deserted. It’s in a bad side of town. _Bobo_ bad. No one in Purgatory who’s lived here long enough would dare visit, much less on such a dangerous night.” _Nobody but Nedley._

Waverly examined the wall. Something didn’t sit right with her about this whole story. It all sounded too strange. In her experience, strange usually translated into supernatural meddling. Nicole watched Waverly’s wheels spin with a smile. One of the things Nicole adored and respected so much about Waverly was that sexy smart brain. She was also grateful to have someone else working with her on this.

Waverly mindlessly chewed the tip of the pencil’s eraser as she tilted her head left and then right, scrutinizing the wall. She finally speculated aloud, “What if… Nedley was in trouble that night? What if him coming to this specific store was strategic? A message he left for us?”

“You think he was involved in some kind of trouble?” Nicole found the thought very hard to believe. “Randy Nedley? Mr. Nightly Netflix?”

Waverly gave Nicole an exasperated look. Nicole lifted her hands up in defense.

“What trouble could possibly follow that man? Everyone respects him. Even Revenants.” 

“People are not always as they seem.”

Nicole tried not to read anything further into the statement. “But why a coded message? Why not just give me a call? He knows how to text.”

“Reception _has_ been unreliable,” Waverly pointed out. “Follow me here, Nicole. He is in a cabin with no landline or cell phone reception. Something happens that spooks him. He needs to share it, figures he doesn't have a lot of time before the blizzard takes over. So he stops by a Revenant-run store on the wrong side of town-- something he ordinarily would not have done-- and buys ammunition... maybe code for danger or preparing for a fight? A carrot cake. What is it he always says about those things?"

“It's not real food. You basically have to torture him to make him eat it.”

“Exactly!”

OK, it needed work, but Nicole could be on board with this theory. It would make a lot of sense, given that Nedley’s behavior otherwise _didn’t_. “If this is a coded message, what does the fuel mean?”

"Maybe he was headed back home?" Waverly shrugged, sighing and walking away from the wall. “I don't know. That’s all I got.” Waverly suddenly turned around. “We could use Jeremy. Where is he, anyway?”

It occurred to Nicole just then that the station had been strangely quiet. _For a while_. She hadn’t heard a sound from Jeremy or Lonnie. Which was unusual for both of them. Nicole narrowed her eyes and glanced at Waverly, who also wore a worried look. She pulled her Smith  & Wesson from her holster and motioned toward the door. As she aimed to turn the door knob, an ear splittingly loud “BANG” and intensely bright flash of light reverberated through Nicole.

“Wave—!” she cried out protectively as the force of the energy seemed to blind her and rupture her eardrum simultaneously. Her head tilted to the side. _Riiiing_ was all she heard and stumbled. She opened her eyes but saw nothing in front of her. Her head tilted to the other side. _Riiing._

Disoriented, she fell hard to the floor. She was vaguely aware of Waverly doing the same.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Fight as Needed**

 

When she regained sensory integration, Nicole found her hands tied. Her skin scraped. Her head pounding. She felt nauseous and sluggish and it was hard to focus on her surroundings. Her head weighed like a bowling ball as she lifted it and looked straight ahead. 

“Pretty red head’s finally awake,” came a gruff voice from across the room. Nicole tracked him. He wore a ripped camouflage shirt, combat boots, a long filthy beard and too many tattoos. In other words, fresh from the standard, unkempt Revenant assembly line.

“How’d ya like the stun grenade, sweetheart? We nicked it from your arsenal last time we stopped by.” He wiggled his eyebrows and laughed. “That was fun to use! Let’s do it again!”

Nicole licked her lips and tasted metallic. Likely from biting her tongue when she hit the floor. She struggled to clear the brain fog. Her hair was in her face but she could see enough to spot a second revenant watching her intently. He also had her gun. She labeled him The Gun Stealer. She kept looking but there was no one else in the room. _Where is Waverly?_

As if reading her thoughts, The Gun Stealer casually remarked, “You lookin’ for that sexy Angel friend of yours?”

Nicole glared at him silently. He chuckled low in his throat. “She’s occupied.”

Nicole’s heart beat furiously against her chest. The insinuation was enough to throw her into absolute rage. She fought her instincts to lunge at him and steadied her breathing, refusing to take the bait. This was not a time to be reactive. _Be smart, Haught._ She needed to strategize if she was going to help Waverly in any way. Heart in her throat, she inhaled. _Exhaled_. And as she did, she allowed her military training to kick in full force.

She kept the conversation going with the revenants, but internally, she was multi-tasking, assessing her situation and planning her escape. The fact that she was still alive told her they needed her for something.

“My deputy says you were looking for me earlier. Well, here I am. What do you want?”

She realized her hands were tightly bound by zip ties to the water pipe behind her back.

“Nah, nah, nah. You don’t get to ask questions, OK?”

One of the water pipes extended out parallel to her legs. The other pressed sharply against her back. And it was freezing. Hours of a powerless station in this extreme weather meant the water pipes could be frozen solid. Or weakened.

“You telling me or you asking me?” Nicole said, observing that the pipe running parallel to her legs was thinner, more fragile, and met with the pipe to her back at a crosspoint. 

_Which means breakable with the right pressure,_ she thought.

“Smart ass.” 

“There’s a nice bounty on your head, Red,” said the Gun Stealer. Eyeing him now, she noticed he had a bullet hole on the side of his temple. “You and the rest of the Scooby Gang. Real hefty. Once the Earp heir returns from the mountain, we get to end 2 curses for the price of one.”

_Did he say two curses?_

Nicole estimated 8 seconds distance to Nedley’s office from where she was, 3 seconds to his safe, 5 seconds to unlock the combination, and 5 seconds to pull it out and load it. She needed just over 20 seconds to get to the gun… Plus however long it took her to break the water pipe— hopefully without dislocating her shoulders. She searched for another alternative, just in case.

“…Assuming she survives _Maxwell Barron_.” The Gun Stealer glanced back at his buddy and they both laughed. 

“Or she’ll leave you with another Peacemaker-sized hole on the other temple,” Nicole spat back.

The Gun Stealer suddenly came inches from her face and pointed _her_ gun at Nicole.

“You want to eat a bullet?”

_No._

Nicole figured his question was rhetorical and chose to defiantly stare him down in silence instead. Easy Haught, she cautioned. Can’t help Waverly dead. 

The Gun Stealer dropped the gun to the side, suddenly irritated, and screamed at the other revenant. “What’s taking them so long?” The other revenant shrugged.

“New to the leadership role, I gather,” Nicole stated sarcastically, and she really should not have. She tested too far. She regretted the comment the instant she saw his facial expression change to rage. He charged toward her and stopped in front of her.

“You stupid bitch.” He kneeled, his knees cracking loudly, and waited for a seemingly very long time. Then he landed a lightning fast backhanded slap across her face with _her_ gun. It pushed her whole body to the side and her wrists chafed against the zip ties. Her head spun. As he stood up with a satisfied smirk, a sudden female scream pierced through the hallway.

He stilled, looking in that direction.

_Waverly_.

Nicole’s heart sank.

The Gun Stealer seemed perplexed, as if he was not anticipating there to be a scream.

“Watch her,” he instructed the other revenant and left the room.

As soon as he disappeared from view, Nicole realized that this was going to be her best opportunity. Revenant #1 was several feet away from her and he did not have a gun. She was willing to try her chances at one-to-one combat. Firmly grabbing either side of the water pipe at her back for stability and momentum, she landed a hard kick to the water pipe next to her. A small dent. _Fuck._

From her peripheral vision she was aware of the revenant jumping off his chair and in her direction. She kicked the water pipe again. The dent deepened.

“Come on, come on!” she muttered under her breath and kicked the pipe repeatedly. The revenant reached her and Nicole felt his large hand dig deep into her scalp. Just as he did, the water pipe burst, sending a rush of water to spill on the floor. _Not frozen after all._

She quickly slipped the zip ties through the crosspoint, turned on her heel in the direction of the revenant pulling her hair, and landed the back of her knuckles to his face. He recoiled, releasing his grip on her hair as he stepped backward, and then swung at her from the other side.

Nicole ducked. Pivoted. Jumped up. And punched downward. _Hard_.

The speed and momentum caused the zip ties to release, freeing her wrists.

And knocking the revenant unconscious.

Disregarding the pain shooting from her bloody knuckles, Nicole ran to Nedley’s safe, unlocked and loaded the gun in under 20 seconds, and stealthily ran in search of Waverly.  

A flurry of shots echoed through the station.

Her heart raced wildly.

 

*****

 

Waverly was honestly quite impressed with herself. She had taken two revenants down on her own. With a bat, some cunning, and two swats to the head. Years of Earp sister hazing and inappropriate exposure to stun grenades had taught her to anticipate the sensory instability, stay low to the ground, and recover in a hidden place. So when the flash bang dropped, she knew exactly what to do.

By the time she recovered in Nicole’s closet, the four revenants from the previous night had dragged Nicole’s body to the center of the station, tied her up, and stolen her gun. _She’s gonna be pissed about that gun_ , Waverly had thought wryly and then slipped away with a silent promise to Nicole that she would formulate a plan to save her.

Sneaking through the other side of the station, where BBD used to be housed, she found a confiscated baseball bat and some nun chucks. Jeremy and Lonnie were nowhere to be found, which was troublesome.

Scared for Nicole’s life, Waverly quickly grabbed the communication devices on the desk and set out her plan. She had three walkie talkies. She was hoping she could force them to split up. “Just little ole’ me. Not too intimidating, right, guys?” she said to no one and set two walkie talkies to different frequencies.

Waverly placed one communication device at the base of the stairs entrance and one by the end of the hallway in the opposite direction. Hiding behind the doorway to the stairs, she set the talkie to the 1st channel that connected to the walkie talkie at the edge of the stairs and held the push-to-talk button. “Good evening, ass wipes,” she spoke loudly into the device, “Ready for round 2 I see? How’s the shot in the gonads working out for you, Lou?”

Lou wasn’t his name. He wasn’t shot in the gonads. 

She heard a loud scatter and feet shuffling as two revenants barged in through the hallway and looked around. “Jeremy, watch out!” she said as a diversion, then quickly switched the channel to the other walkie talkie and said in an overly masculine voice, “Split up. You get to the stairs; I’ll get the hallway.”

Just as she predicted, one of the revenants ran down the hallway while the other headed her direction toward the stairs. She stepped closer into the shadows behind the door. As soon as the revenant opened the door, she swung the nun chucks between his legs. He hunched over and grabbed his crotch. Then she swung the bat against his face and he took a long, seemingly awkward tumble down the stairs.

Waverly pressed push-to-talk, “Hey, dorkus. Wrong way.” The revenant at the end of the hall turned, pissed the fuck off with the run around, and sprinted toward the stairs.

He opened the door. _Rinse and repeat._ Waverly smiled when she heard an “oomph” as the second revenant landed on top of the first revenant.

_Finally_! Stupid Revenants working to her advantage.

Waverly gave herself an imaginary high five. She opened the door to the stairs and heard a loud pistol whip. _Fuck._ She gritted her teeth, blood boiling with the visual that they were hurting Nicole.

She didn’t give herself time to think. She just wanted them away from Nicole immediately. Without even calculating her next step, she let out a loud pitched scream into her microphone.

Then she waited for a second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

_What the hell? Where were they?_

Waverly opened the stairs door again, taking one step into the hallway, and immediately regretted it as the revenant spotted her, pointed the gun at her and shot at her. It missed Waverly by a hair’s breath as she ducked for cover.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she said, cowering under an onslaught of bullets. She turned, the only way to get away from the bullets being out through the back of the station. And into the snow.

_Big Doo-Doo._  

The door swung open and she stepped out into the blizzard. The bitterly cold air wreaked havoc on her lungs. The wind offensively pushed her thin frame like she was a piece of paper. Without a jacket, she’d freeze her ass off in a matter of seconds.

_Think, Waverly_ , she coached herself.

The door flew open behind her. She gasped and turned around to meet his eyes. She was a sitting duck. He raised his arm and aimed his gun. “One less Earp bitch.”

_Bang_.

 

***** 

 

The revenant dropped in front of her, face first into the snow. He wasn’t dead. _Re-dead?_ But he was going to sport another nasty hole in his head when he regained consciousness.

Nicole stood in the doorway with her right hand holding Nedley’s gun and her left hand outstretched to Waverly. “Come inside, baby,” Nicole requested, her voice warm and soothing. Waverly didn’t need any convincing. She rushed into Nicole’s arms, who dropped the gun to her side and wrapped Waverly safely against her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full Self-Disclosure: I know nothing about water pipes. Not about steel pipes, or lead pipes, galvanized pipes, or plastic pipes, and much less, frozen/not frozen pipes. Can a karate kick do much damage? I dunno. :D


	8. Rest and Regain Your Strength

**Chapter Eight: Rest and Regain Your Strength**

 

After shutting off the main water valve, Nicole and Waverly disposed of the revenants, shackling The Gun Stealer and tossing him and the other revenant with the other two at the bottom of the stairs. Then they barricaded the door. Once they felt secure, Waverly turned her attention to Nicole, a look of concern on her face. “I never found Jeremy. Or Lonnie.”

“Right here!” came a voice from out of a closet. “We’re right here.” 

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me! Jer!”

Jeremy smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry. They came in and everything happened so fast with the flash bang. We just hid.”

Waverly marched up to Jeremy and swatted him in the shoulder. “You had me worried, Nerd,” Waverly exclaimed, affectionately using the term.

“I’m so sorry, Nerdette,” Jeremy responded. Waverly sighed in exasperation and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m just glad you’re alive, friend.” 

“Should we hug, too?” Lonnie asked Nicole.

Nicole responded with a firm head shake no.

“So what do we do now?” Waverly asked the group, looking over at Nicole.

“It’s late. We keep guard of the revenants in rotating shifts,” Nicole said. “Get some sleep. I’ll take the first shift.”

 

***** 

 

Nicole felt like a cartoon caricature as she re-opened her first aid kit to bandage her bloodied fist and attempt to fix her face. Here she was again, in less than 24 hours, nursing herself back to health. She examined her profile in the full length mirror of the police department’s bathroom. Bags under her eyes from sleep deprivation now a permanent aesthetic. Disheveled hair also part of her stapled look. Her right cheek looked godawful split open, with dry blood painting her jawline. She glanced down at her right knuckles slightly swollen and bruised. What a hot mess.

“May I help?”

The sound was soft but it startled Nicole, who jumped a little higher than she’d care to admit. Acute Stress was setting in, no doubt.

“Waves, you’re supposed to be sleeping,” Nicole said, with no bite.

“Couldn’t.” She stepped toward Nicole and picked up a washcloth nearby. “Truth is,” she started, soaking the washcloth at the sink in front of Nicole, “I haven’t slept well in over 6 weeks.” She chewed her lip, avoiding eye contact as she allowed her words to sink in for Nicole.

Waverly tenderly picked up Nicole’s right hand and gently squeezed the wet washcloth over it. Water dripped down her wrist and between Nicole’s knuckles and she slowly breathed through the pulsating sting from the exposed skin. _My poor, brave baby._ Waverly’s long ago words were in Nicole’s head. “You were really brave tonight. As you always are.”

“Waverly…” Nicole breathed into Waverly’s kind touch when she reached for her jawline with the washcloth. Nicole knew what Waverly was doing. She could feel her resistances failing her. She was physically and emotionally spent. Her defenses were down. Her inhibition was weakened. Which, for a control freak like Nicole, was a very threatening, out-of-control experience.

Waverly slid the wash cloth down Nicole’s cheek, her fingertips grazing her jawline. Nicole shivered in response and looked down at Waverly. Wrestled with the feeling of giving in to her. Trusting Waverly again. She needed to let go of the past. She was the reason they were still in limbo. In emotional Purgatory. Cursed to repeat the same push-pull dynamics over and over.

“Just once,” Waverly said adamantly, interrupting her thoughts.

Nicole blinked. “What?”

“Just once I wish you’d get out of your head and be here with me.” 

The request brought an acute fire to Nicole’s eyes. Impulsively, one hand reached behind the small of Waverly’s back and the other hand cupped Waverly’s face, dragging her body flush against her. Waverly’s eyes opened wide and her lips parted. Nicole lips hovered over hers. _The slightest touch._

Internally, Nicole’s heart fought against the edges of its cage. A strong part of her wanted it to be released. To be free. To allow her to kiss Waverly, draw a bridge over past hurts, and give Waverly everything she’s ever wanted. Everything she deserves.

But Nicole’s captor, the cage itself, was made of material Nicole could not penetrate. She didn’t know when it had encapsulated her heart. When she had hardened. It was a nightmare to be torn between the part of her that so desperately wanted to be with Waverly and the part of her that felt… that felt… that felt— _What, Nicole_?

That felt she was not enough for Waverly. 

Nicole summoned the last vestiges of self-control that remained. She let her hands drop.

“Go to sleep,” Nicole said decisively, her guard briefly restored.

 

***** 

 

Waverly attempted to elevate the sleeping bag with some towels. Sleeping on the floor two nights in a row was highly unpleasant. She already had difficulty sleeping. What with the nightmares and the crazy vivid dreams.

As she evened out the pad with some well-placed punches, she tried very _very_ hard to push Nicole Haught out of her thoughts and out of her heart. She wished she could copy Nicole. Not think about someone anymore. Stubbornly will oneself to be emotionless.

Sliding inside the huge sleeping bag, she also tried to ignore the tears in her eyes. The painful sting of rejection. She tried to replace it with seething anger. Rage. _Anything_ that wasn’t what she was currently feeling.

To her great misfortune and eternal suffering, it just wasn’t in her nature to be angry at Nicole for long. It was the most mind boggling thing! It was like every time Nicole pushed her away and rejected her, Waverly was hurt for all of two minutes. And as soon as Nicole walked into the room again, her mind went blank and her heart was ready for another beating. Excitedly showing up and openly asking to be loved again.

It was fucking frustrating!

For the life of her, Waverly struggled to understand how Nicole got under her skin and permanently camped into the farthest reaches of her soul, where even Waverly had no ability to touch. To extract. Without becoming completely undone.

Feeling isolated and alone, she missed her big sister. Waverly hoped with all her heart that Wynonna and the guys were safe and on their way back home.

She wiped away a tear and sniffled into her sleeping bag’s attached pillow. She was going to cry it out and let it out, sleep it off, and tomorrow would be a new day. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the world to go away.

Waverly’s mind quieted under the blanket of sleep.

As Waverly slept, the blizzard raged on. The howl of the wind was Waverly’s background music. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ The wind kicked at the windows rhythmically, a maestro of the tambour. Forests fell and Waverly’s chest swelled in the depths of her restless slumber. And then an external sound pulled her from her fitful state.

 

*****

 

Nicole checked on Jeremy, the door barricading the revenants, and Lonnie, too. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone but she was very protective of the klutz. Lonnie messed up frequently, and although she felt more like his den mother than his boss at times, he was a good man with a good heart. As far as criteria for people go, that was most important to Nicole.

She wished she could apply that same principle to herself. _Not that easy._

Nicole carried a knot in her stomach after the way she treated Waverly. Those wounded green eyes looking back at Nicole had been her fault, and she had no good reason for having reacted that way. Especially when all Waverly wanted was to make peace and help.

_God, I’m a mess._ Nicole sighed.

It was her damn mind, spinning its scripts of insecurity and guilt. When did it get this way? Her mind wasn’t always so cut throat; typically, it was her ally, her instrument under her control. But for some reason, whenever it concerned Waverly lately, Nicole’s mind was a hacksaw. Cutting haphazardly, indiscriminately. She hardly recognized herself anymore.

“Waverly isn’t Shae, Nicole.” She reminded herself that Shae’s betrayal did not need to reflect on her as a person, on her value as a human.

Nicole stepped into the BBD office and checked in on Waverly, who had fallen into a disturbed sleep inside an oversized sleeping bag that appeared to swallow her whole, making her look so small. Nicole watched her toss from side to side and kick the bottom of the bag, Waverly’s face contorted in displeasure. _What nightmares haunt you, baby love? Am I one of them?_

The room began to feel colder, as if the weather intensified with each one of Waverly’s kicks.

“No…” Waverly groaned in her sleep. “Please…”

Watching Waverly from the distance, the full gravity of the day finally struck Nicole. _We could have died,_ she thought, recalling the immobilizing effects of the stun grenade, being held captive by revenants, the all-consuming fear of imagining Waverly in danger without any ability to help.

_How much more can a person take?_ How much longer could she last without breaking?

Nicole clenched her jaw and pressed two fingers into her closed eyes, suppressing emotion. 

Nicole was so tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of feeling. Tired of trying to solve problems that couldn’t be solved. Tired of facing revenants that couldn’t be killed. But most of all, she was just tired of doing all of it alone. Without Waverly. Or Wynonna. Or the Team.

The memory of Waverly’s wounded expression returned to Nicole. They almost died tonight. And she had pushed Waverly away, sent her to bed, alone and scared, like a child. Nicole mentally kicked herself. Waverly deserved better than that. She owed Waverly a big apology.

Nicole kicked off her shoes and her pants. She crouched over by Waverly, her feelings raw, her heart in her throat, and began unzipping the sleeping bag.


	9. Act Only When It Feels Right

**Chapter Nine: Act Only When It Feels Right**

 

The sleeping bag unzipping woke Waverly from her dream. She shifted in the bag, alarmed, and came face to face with the dark shadow of Nicole, who appeared to be crouching over her.

“You startled me,” Waverly said in a slight haze.

“Sorry. You were moaning in your sleep,” Nicole whispered. The hour was late. Maybe 2 in the morning, Waverly estimated.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Waverly fixed her gaze on Nicole, although she couldn’t get a good look at her eyes.

“Yes,” was Nicole’s soft reply. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Waverly swallowed and nodded. She was peeved with herself as her heart betrayed her in predictable fashion and once again beat excitedly against her chest. Dim lights nearby allowed her to see Nicole swiftly take off her sweater to reveal a dark tank top and well-defined arms.

_That’s different._

When she slipped into her sleeping bag, it did not go unnoticed that Nicole’s legs were bare and warm as they lightly rubbed against Waverly’s legs. As if they had never stopped, Waverly turned to her side and Nicole spooned her, resting her hand on Waverly’s hip. Without allowing herself to think, Waverly grabbed Nicole’s hand and nestled it between her breasts, hugging Nicole’s arm like a teddy bear. She sensed Nicole’s body tense for a second before relaxing into her. Nicole wrapped her tightly in her arms. _Securely._ The hammering of Waverly’s heart felt like it was happening in slow motion. Having Nicole so close to her was at once scary, exciting, arousing. Waverly was keenly aware of having only a shirt and cotton panties on.

“I was terrified something awful was happening to you,” Nicole confessed, her whisper fanning the back of Waverly’s ear. Her slow intake of breath sent shivers down Waverly’s spine. Waverly remained silent, their sudden proximity affecting Waverly’s ability to think. Then Nicole buried her nose in her neck and inhaled Waverly’s scent, nuzzling her erotically. _Oh._ That next level of intimacy caught Waverly completely off guard and she released an unexpected groan she didn’t realize she was holding. Nicole’s response was to press her more tightly. “Nicole…” Waverly fought the fog in her brain. “What does this mean?”

Waverly recognized the butterflies in her stomach as partially due to feeling wanted and sought after by Nicole—what she had desired for so long—and partially due to the gripping fear of what this could mean. Of Nicole being swept by her emotions again only to rediscover in the morning that Waverly was not worth the effort. Had Nicole not rejected her mere hours ago? 

“It means I’m sorry I hurt you.” Present tense. Meaning, routinely. Not just once. “I love you, Waverly.” Nicole’s words were deliberate, without hesitation. And _so_ convincing. Her declaration hot against Waverly’s ear. Waverly felt torn between fear and hope. “I love you deeply. And I don’t want us to hurt each other anymore.”

Waverly listened quietly before shuffling uncomfortably inside the sleeping bag and turning to look at Nicole. Regret reflected back. “Me, neither.”

The sad whimper that came out of Nicole then nearly broke Waverly’s heart. Nicole buried her internal frustration in Waverly’s shoulder. _What could she even say to help soothe Nicole’s pain?_  

After a moment, Waverly pulled them apart somewhat and reached between them to capture Nicole’s chin.

“As much as I wish I could, I can’t heal your inner demons, my love. You have to do that yourself.”

“I know. Maybe I’m just not brave enough.”

Waverly shook her head. “I disagree. You are one of the most courageous women I have _ever_ met. But sometimes, Nicole,” she said, reflecting on her own life lessons, “the path to healing from the past comes from taking another risk. It’s how you teach your heart its own strength. So it knows it’ll survive, no matter what happens.”

Waverly smiled sympathetically at Nicole and planted a soft kiss near her bruised cheek. The kiss was meant to be chaste. A simple act of emotional support. But Nicole held on, cupped the back of her head, and spread her fingers into Waverly’s long, silky hair. She looked into Waverly’s eyes. There was an intense determination in Nicole’s gaze.

“For you,” Nicole responded with a conviction that made Waverly temporarily forget what they were talking about, “For you, I’d risk anything.” She brushed her lips once against Waverly’s. The faintest brush. “I’d risk _everything_.” Did that include her heart?

With a resolve Waverly had not seen in a long time, Nicole captured Waverly’s lips in a searing kiss. Waverly’s reservations caved and her head instantly went foggy with desire. All she remembered was spreading her lips apart and welcoming the caress of Nicole’s tongue. She remembered feeling Nicole carefully bite at Waverly’s lower lip and then follow the bite with a soothing, drawn out lick.

Nicole shifted their position and hovered above her, pulling Waverly out of her trance momentarily. One hand braced against the sleeping bag, the other resting on her thigh, Nicole looked down at Waverly. Although she was sure they both looked haggard and exhausted, Waverly felt a surge of attraction to gaze upon Nicole’s stunning face. Even with the cut on her cheek, she was gorgeous. She felt a familiar feeling of pleasure to have Nicole’s weight on top of her again, the perfect pressure of her body aligning with hers. Her heart elated at this turn of events.

“Is this OK? Are we going too fast again?” Nicole asked breathlessly, searching Waverly’s eyes to ensure they were on the same course. Nicole innocently repositioned a leg between Waverly’s thighs and Waverly almost came undone. “M-maybe… we should slow down,” Waverly admitted.

The implication was right, after all. They had done this song and dance before, had passionate sex in the heat of the moment only to regret it the next day when their fight resumed where it last left off. Despite feeling like something about this time was different, she agreed that they had to tread carefully. Waverly _really_ didn’t want to fuck things up this time.

“Maybe we keep it PG?” Waverly offered. Nicole nodded and resumed her onslaught of kisses on Waverly’s lips. Nicole refrained from Waverly’s neck. Every time their passion escalated, Nicole withdrew slightly, much to both their frustration. Every time Nicole shifted her weight on top of Waverly and her leg bumped against Waverly’s inner thigh, Waverly cursed silently. Despite wanting nothing more than to seek release, especially with the way Nicole was kissing her and turning her on, Waverly intentionally resisted grinding against Nicole’s leg. A part of her still remembered what happened the last time she did. The other part of her attempted to honor their PG rating.

Nicole lifted Waverly’s shirt up slightly and spread her warm fingers on Waverly’s bare midriff. The touch was new, sudden, and lit up all of Waverly’s pleasure zones. “Oh, Nicole…” she moaned. “Slow…”

Waverly apparently underestimated the effect of her moan so close to Nicole’s ear, who responded, not by going slow, _at all_ , but by going straight for the nape of her neck and pressing her leg firmly between Waverly’s thighs at the same time. Waverly gasped, her already fragile state of self-control fading. She fought hard to hold back. To keep her impending orgasm at bay. But her body was painfully turned on and she was not going to be able to keep her word at this rate.

_Why did they do ground rules again?_

“Babe?” Waverly warned, panting.

Nicole didn’t appear to be listening. She bit down passionately into Waverly’s most vulnerable erogenous zone as she rapidly increased their rhythm, purposely rubbing her leg up and down Waverly’s center. The friction was... incredible. In spite of herself, Waverly pressed her hands against Nicole’s chest, stopping her.

Nicole pulled back, her eyes dark. “I love how responsive you are.” Nicole’s husky voice gave Waverly chills. “Do you really want me to stop?” Waverly released a slow breath and gazed into her lover’s face, taking in her features. Nicole, aroused and breathless, looked sexy as hell. _There_ was the lover that she recognized.

Waverly shook her head in an honest “no” and Nicole pressed her lips together before swiping across with the tip of her tongue. Standard Nicole Haught move. It always made Waverly wonder what exactly she was thinking. Craving to touch her, Waverly reached for Nicole, sliding her hands up her chest. But Nicole grabbed Waverly’s hands and pinned them above her head.

“Hands stay here,” Nicole instructed.

The idea didn’t settle well with Waverly. She much preferred to touch Nicole. To feel her warmth, to pull her closer. Although Nicole was pressed against her, Waverly felt they were not yet close enough. But Waverly complied anyway, knowing Nicole liked an obedient lover.  

Eyes fixed on her, Waverly felt Nicole reach down between them, quickly part through the barrier that was Waverly’s underwear, and slip two fingers into the evidence of Waverly’s arousal. She gasped at the feel of Nicole inside her. Her back arched automatically, pushing her breasts toward Nicole as she took her in.

“Mmm,” Nicole murmured into her ear. Her long fingers settled deep and pulled back in exquisite and excruciating fashion. Waverly was past the point of self-awareness now. Her moans were unrestrained and gradually louder as she took in Nicole with pleasure.

When Nicole increased her rhythm, Waverly’s hips moved in sync to her thrusts, forcing her inches off the sleeping bag. Waverly gazed up at Nicole, struggling to use words to tell her how amazing her touch felt. But her emotions trapped her words in her throat. Instead, she locked eyes with Nicole and rocked with her.

“You like?”

Waverly responded with an enthusiastic nod, still moving with Nicole.

She bit her lip and gripped the pillow behind her head instead of digging into Nicole’s back like she wanted. As the thrusts deepened, an intense, insatiable need for more began to consume her. Waverly unabashedly spread her legs wider— as much as the sleeping bag allowed— her need frantically demanding Nicole penetrate her more fully. More deeply. Faster.

She sensed more than saw Nicole’s subtle smile. Her attuned lover responded to her whimpers by pushing further in, adding a well-placed thumb, and biting her pulse point.

_Oh!_ _God!_

Waverly screamed. She didn’t have any time to think. Her muscles tensed and she arched her back reflexively into Nicole as her orgasm took complete possession of her. Her hands gripped Nicole’s shoulders, her thighs trapping Nicole’s hand as she rode out the orgasm with her eyes tightly shut. Her body thrashed, pushing and pulling wildly as ripples of ecstasy coursed through her. Nicole kept firmly in place— the warmth of her lips resting still on Waverly’s neck— and served as her rock.

In the eternal space of Waverly’s orgasm, where time became irrelevant and thoughts disappeared, Waverly’s heart filled with a simply intense feeling of pure joy. To feel wanted and cared for. To feel reconnected at last to the love of her life. To know, in her heart of hearts, that, no matter what, they would be OK. Their relationship had hope.

As Waverly re-entered mental space, she looked up at Nicole with a sheepish grin. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”

And for the first time in a really _really_ long time, Nicole did something that was music to Waverly’s ears. She laughed out loud. “Did you just make a Sandlot reference?”

Waverly laughed with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes:  
> 1\. My friend labels this "The Emotional Quickie Scene." Would you agree?  
> 2\. This was extremely challenging (and enjoyable) to write, to balance the line between smut and PG, and feels very vulnerable to share. This is the first time I will have shared anything of this type on a public forum.  
> 3\. Let's be real: The "pressing her lips together before swiping it with the tip of her tongue" is not really a Nicole Haught move. It is a total Kat Barrell move. But it's soooo sexy, I couldn't help but to add it. ;)  
> 4\. My biggest challenge in writing this chapter is that I can never get enough of WayHaught and I always want to read/write more. But the characters and the story don't always take me where I want to go.  
> Thank you again for reading.


	10. Keep an Eye Out

**Chapter Ten: Keep an Eye Out**

 

More out of habit than anything else, Nicole awoke around 5AM after barely an hour of sleep. Beside her, enjoying the cocoon of the sleeping bag, Waverly was in the middle of a deep sleep. Her facial features peaceful. She seemed content. And looked angelic with her long hair sporting evidence of their night together _._ _My sexy girl._

Nicole placed a light kiss on Waverly’s forehead, careful not to disturb her. She untangled their legs and slid out of the bag. Her mind felt wired. She was physically exhausted but mentally energized. Emotionally, she felt full. Not anxious, or calm. Just full. As if some of her darkness had lifted.

Sensory flashbacks of their time together struck her. It was little moments that flashed at her most meaningfully. Initially registering the heat Waverly’s fingertips generated when she grabbed Nicole’s arm and tucked it between her breasts. The familiarity of Waverly’s scent when Nicole nuzzled her. She recalled her own arousal at knowing she was the cause of the silky wetness between Waverly’s thighs. The way Waverly’s hips responded greedily to Nicole’s every thrust. The escalating desperation in Waverly’s moans. Wow… It was those moans, so rich and guttural, deeply echoing pleasure in Nicole’s ear that she found most difficult to forget.

Goddamn.

Nicole swallowed and steeled herself. Before she did something impulsive. Like wake up Waverly again.

God, that had really been so impulsive. Nicole had not completely thought through the implications of her actions. When she had joined Waverly, she was only looking to cuddle, maybe comfort her, apologize. But then Waverly had said sweet soothing words, kissed her cheek, and given her this lingering look of longing. Nicole’s body had hummed with energy and she had felt Waverly’s body ready and willing to submit to her. It was impossible to resist the pull to get closer, to get lost in the sensation of Waverly. Mercifully, an overpowering force had silenced Nicole’s mind just long enough to be present with her.

Although she was aware that a part of her had remained guarded— not allowing Waverly to touch her— Nicole was content with their lovemaking. This was Waverly’s primary love language. And she had chosen to nurture it.

Hearing and feeling the way Waverly’s body surrendered so completely under Nicole’s caresses made her realize two things: The first was how open and willing Waverly still was to being sexually and emotionally vulnerable with her, as if time had never passed, as if mistakes had never been made. The second, and the more painful truth, was recognition of Nicole’s general lack of presence in their lovemaking. She now understood why Waverly had so adamantly sought sexual reconnection. Because when Nicole was also present, it took them to a completely different emotional level.

Nicole genuinely hoped that this time was different. That their connection during sex had been… healing in some way. But they had played this game before. And each time had suffered greatly for it when they returned to old habits. Nicole’s perspective was perhaps more realistic now. Maybe even more jaded.

_One can hope, though._

There was an out-of-place silence that Nicole suddenly seemed to notice. The howling wind and the constant tapping had dissipated. Nicole stood up and picked up her sweater and the pants she had discarded at the door to the BBD office before coming in to be with Waverly.

She drew the blinds as she re-dressed and looked through the window, expecting at least a light snowfall or some hail. Her jaw fell open in shock. She wiped away the condensation from the window.

“No way,” Nicole whispered. She found her shoes, shoved them on, and went outside. All around her, nothing made sense. It was dark, barely dawn, the sky was cloudless, and in less than a few hours, without any sun to change the temperature, the blizzard had stopped and the snow had all but disappeared. _Impossible._

Feet of snow on the floor and on the trees had melted, resulting in runoff, mud, and large puddles. The temperature had kicked up to what felt like over 100 degrees. She stripped off her sweater again, the heat unbearable outside. What is going on around here?

Did they kill the revenant Maxwell? Nicole wondered in bafflement. “Did we win?”

 

*****

 

Waverly, Jeremy, and Lonnie came outside to marvel at the weather. The sun was up. The heat was so strong now that the puddles were starting to evaporate, causing what felt like 100% humidity. Purgatory was a walking sauna. Without snow to accessorize the trees, everything looked barren. Deserted. Just a general sense of ruthless desolation.

“How’d you sleep?” Nicole whispered to Waverly stepping beside her. She had let Waverly rest as much as possible, but the discomfort from the heat had finally awoken her. Waverly blushed as Jeremy passed them and grunted “uh huh.”

“It was…” She bit her lower lip coyly. “…almost everything I needed, thank you.”

“ _Almost_?” Nicole’s eyebrows shot up. Were they talking about sleep?

“I don’t understand,” Lonnie interrupted. “You guys see what I see, right? Like, this is impossible, eh? It’s fuckin’ summer!”

“Purgatory noob,” Jeremy uttered under his breath, shaking his head.

“Yeah! Sooooo weird,” Waverly added unhelpfully. “It’s probably all that global warming people keep talking about. Don’t think too much on it, Lonnie.” She gave him a quick pat on the back and returned inside, pulling Nicole behind her. Jeremy followed.

“I thought that was a conspiracy?!” she heard Lonnie say.

Waverly and Jeremy simultaneously rolled their eyes. They walked into Nicole’s office and away from poor, overwhelmed Lonnie.

“What do we think this means?” Waverly asked. Nicole shook her head. She had no clue. They turned to Jeremy, who simply shrugged. “Unless we hear from Wynonna and find out exactly what happened, it could mean things are restoring in the other direction, like a balance, six weeks of snow—”

“Oh, God,” Waverly groaned, “Six weeks of hell?”

“Or worse. If things went bad...” Jeremy made a face. “It could mean Weather Revenant is showing off, making the weather dangerously hot.”

“Have you been able to reach Wynonna through comms at all?” Nicole asked Jeremy.

He shook his head. “Not a peep or a tweet. Still working on fixing this,” he said, gesturing to the communication device in his hands. “It randomly bugged out on me last night—along with a few other electronics.”

That caught Nicole’s attention. “Like an EMP?”

Jeremy dismissed her idea. “No, not all electronics are fried. I fixed the power cables, but the power fluctuates. It seems… unsystematic. Chaotic.” 

“Which is consistent with our disequilibrium theory,” Waverly jumped in. Jeremy nodded.

“I should have this fixed in about an hour or so.”

“You do that,” Nicole said. “I’m heading out. You guys OK here on your own with Lonnie?” Nicole eyed Jeremy skeptically.

“Where _you_ going?” Waverly asked.

“To find Nedley. That blizzard was the only thing slowing me down. The revenants are secure; they’re not going anywhere. You guys will be safe.” Nicole turned to Jeremy. “Text me once you’ve made contact with Wynonna?” Jeremy nodded again. “Of course.”

Nicole picked up one of her military backpacks piled near the door. Tossing it over her shoulder, she headed out and to her truck, Waverly on her tail.

“I’m coming with you.”

Waverly’s “this is not debatable” facial expression made Nicole smile.

“Fine by me. Are you sure you don’t want to be here for when Wynonna gets back?”

“Wynonna has Doc _and_ Dolls.” Waverly quoted Nicole’s earlier statement. “I don’t want you going at it alone. I rather we be safe.”

“Words of wisdom,” Nicole retorted with a smirk and motioned Waverly inside her truck.

“You’re leaving me with _Lonnie_?” Jeremy said, sounding distressed. Waverly looked over at her friend sympathetically. Maybe she should stay?

“You heard Nicole. Revenants are secure,” Waverly said. She approached him more closely, whispering so only he could hear. “I need some time with Nicole.”

“Are you guys back together? Cuz it sure sounded like it.”

“I don’t know.”

Jeremy looked over at Nicole, who was already in the truck and on her phone. 

“She seems… distant.” 

Waverly refused to take the bait. She was well aware of her friend’s perspective on Nicole.

“I’ll stay with you if it really makes you feel uncomfortable.”

“No. Go. We’ll manage.”

Waverly gave him a Thank You kiss on the cheek. “You got this, friend. We’ll be back before sundown.” She hopped into the truck with Nicole.

Nicole shifted the gears of her truck to Drive and pulled out of the station. _Nedley,_ she thought, her mind more determined than ever to find him. _Be OK, Nedley. Please be OK._

 

*****

 

The extreme change in the weather was affecting everything. Forest animals were dehydrated, starved, and coming out to play with citizens in very non-friendly ways. Nicole had been forced to swerve several times to prevent running into animals who were taking significantly more risks for their survival.

Since leaving the Purgatory police station, Nicole had received back-to-back text messages and phone calls from Purgatorians complaining about heat stroke and desiccation. Some air conditioning units were no longer working because of the blizzard. Several power lines were still down. Town supplies had dwindled to nothing so there was very little she could do. As she drove, she instructed Lonnie on options and coordinated with Purgatory EMS, the Fire Department, and the Church regarding chain-of-command and resource allocation for residents. Then she made some heated calls to big political organizations. She disconnected her last call with frustration and placed it on vibrate.

_What a fucking mess_ , Nicole thought. 

“You’re pretty good at your job, Sheriff Haught,” Waverly said, trying to introduce some levity into Nicole’s pensive demeanor.

Nicole sent Waverly an appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

The thick humidity had seeped inside the truck, leaving Nicole and Waverly drenched in sweat. Nicole had a black tank top and military green cargo pants on. Waverly wore a dark red flare tank and blue jeans. They had done what they could with their clothing, but neither of them had anticipated such a drastic weather flip. Nicole cranked up the air conditioner as the truck struggled to keep up with demand. The seats were hot and sticky and uncomfortable.

Nicole pulled up to the store that Nedley had visited before he disappeared. The one on the Revenant side of town. The one only people with a death wish visited.

A big, worn-down sign read, aptly so, “B & C.”

“Why this store?” Waverly asked Nicole.

“I have a hunch.”

“Sounds great. Planning on sharing this hunch of yours?” Waverly flashed a sweet smile that stirred something in Nicole. 

“Depends on whether it pans out,” Nicole responded, parking the vehicle. “Back me up?”

“Always.” Waverly’s gaze lingered a little longer, a question in her eyes, before reluctantly tearing away. Nicole felt the consequences of last night and the weight of a pending conversation. She stopped them before going in.

“Listen, Waves. I don’t know if talking is always the best for us—hasn’t always been the best. But… I do think we need to talk about where we are. We have a tendency to… miscommunicate.”

“Yea,” Waverly said slowly, “We should probably talk about what happened. What it means going forward... if there is a forward?”

“Right.” Nicole was nodding. A little too much nodding. “Maybe when we get back. Over dinner?”

Nicole watched Waverly try, and fail, to suppress a grin. “That sounds perfect.”

 

*****

 

“Oh come on! My bros aren’t here. We can get along. You play nice, I play nice.” The revenant—his uniform badge read _Steve_ — backed himself up into the counter as Nicole shoved her Smith & Wesson in his face. His eyes turned toward Waverly and he grinned widely as he registered her. Completely forgetting Nicole’s threat, he gave Waverly a salacious once-over. “I can play _real_ nice with you, Angel.”

Both the revenant and Waverly were taken aback when Nicole harshly shoved her Smith & Wesson into his temple and held it there.

“You want a hole?”

“Whoa! OK! Damn.” He put his hands up in mock surrender.

“I’m looking for something. Something specific. Fuel for a generator.”

Revenant Steve pointedly looked at the gun and Nicole stared him down. “All you need to do is ask, beautiful,” he said calmly, hesitating before helping Nicole slowly lower the weapon. 

“We sell fuel. What kind would ya like?”

“Uh—”

“Just kidding! We only sell one kind. B & C, am I right?”

Nicole and Waverly exchanged a quizzical glance.

Revenant Steve disappeared for a few minutes behind the counter and walked to the end of the store. He returned with a tank of fuel in each hand. He lifted one. “$100.99.” He lifted the other and flashed a cheeky smile. “$200.99.”

“Those prices are ridiculous,” Nicole said with righteous indignation and snatched the cheaper one from his hand. He grunted. She looked at the printing engraved in the center of one of the tanks.

“Waves, do you see what I see?”

The engraving read: _Barron & Company. _

_B & C._

The last coded message from Nedley over 3 weeks ago had been to point toward the Barron Lakes. Had Nedley known about Barron Lakes before everyone else? _How_ had he known it, and what did it mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really enjoying writing and sharing this story. It has brought newfound passion and energy into my life. Your comments and kudos are so valued. As a first-time writer, I want to promise that this story will have an ending. But this second part of the story has taken me for a ride I did not expect and I am writing much slower and carefully now because I want an ending that will satisfy me-- and, hopefully, you.
> 
> Having said that, at this point in time, I am so sorry for what's to come.


	11. Retrace Your Steps

**Chapter Eleven: Retrace Your Steps**

 

Wynonna, Doc, and Dolls had finally returned to the police station. None of them looking happy. Jeremy patched them through to Nicole and Waverly, who were still parked outside of the B & C, hoping to share the latest news with each other.

“What do you mean there was no lake?”

“What I said,” Wynonna responded to Waverly.

“It’s almost been two days! What have you guys been doing?”

“Do we really want the answer to that?” Nicole asked Waverly, her hand covering the phone’s microphone.

“Well, let’s recap, shall we? The mountain was a bust; there was no lake. Do you know what happens to 10 feet of snow when the weather suddenly changes into a mother raging inferno? Hint: it fuckin’ sucks! We lost Dolls’ truck in a flood. He was definitely _not_ mad about that, or about hitchhiking to the station in a wagon full o’ goats. Waverly,” Wynonna said pointedly, taking a deep breath, “Billy goats smell like Cinnabon compared to me right now.”

“Geez. Well, that was an adventure.”

“A colossal waste of time!” Wynonna corrected, peeved. “We’re back to square one— Also, why are there revenants trapped at the bottom of the stairwell?”

“It’s a long story,” Waverly replied.

“Can I shoot them?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“When are you guys coming back? Any updates on Nedley? What have you learned?”

“Nedley’s—”

Nicole cut Waverly off. “Uh, we’re following up on some leads,” she said, using her standard cop line. “We’re headed to his cabin. Should be back at the station by sundown. If you can get the laptop working, mind running a search on _Barron and Company?_ ”

“Sure thing,” Wynonna said sounding like she smelled bullshit but was willing to ignore it. For now. “What exactly am I looking for?”

“Maybe a connection to the now mythical Barron Lakes?”

“’Kay.” There was hesitation in Wynonna’s speech. “I’ll put Jeremy on it. Behave you two. See you soon.”

Waverly heard Wynonna order, “To the decontamination room, stat!” before disconnecting the line.

“Why didn’t you let me tell her the Nedley update?” Waverly asked.

“Because what we have is circumstantial,” Nicole responded, but that wasn’t her real reason. The truth was Nicole didn’t want Wynonna or Doc or Dolls taking over her investigation. Finding Nedley was her mission and she’d be damn if she’d be sidelined again.

“I wanna check the cabin one more time. See if there’s anything I may have missed.”

 

***** 

 

Raucous thunder and too-close-for-comfort lightning were the new additions to the Purgatory climate that hit the skies between the drive from the B & C to Nedley’s cabin. On a positive note, it cooled the temperature considerably. On a scarier note, the local Purgatory weather radio channel—now back up and running—was predicting floods and severe thunderstorms. Everyone was to remain inside.

Which was why Nicole drove hurriedly to Nedley’s cabin. When they reached the entrance, Nicole grabbed her jacket from the back seat and stepped out into the rain to unlatch the chain link fence gate and allow her vehicle entrance. She was thoroughly soaked by the time she returned to her truck. Nicole parked with the passenger side closest to the cabin’s main door. She grabbed Nedley’s spare keys from her glove compartment—his professional token of confidence and trust in her, if he ever were to need her. 

Nicole motioned Waverly inside and set down some of her gear on the living room floor. The cabin was modestly furnished and intimate. About 500 square feet. The kitchen, living room, and bedroom were undivided, with only the bathroom having its own space. Nedley didn’t do luxuries. His kitchen consisted of a basic refrigerator, a small, gas cook top, a coffee maker on top of a black microwave, and a sink on wooden kitchen countertops. The living room had an oak coffee table, a fire place, and a simple suede couch, which had to be moved out of the way to drop the queen sized murphy bed. The floor was made of pine with a square carpet in the center of the cabin. Décor was minimal; a few lamps and picture frames, a digital clock, and an antique shotgun hanging on the wall.

When Nicole had arrived the first time in search of Nedley, the place had been ransacked. All his stuff thrown carelessly about. She cased the place top to bottom for blood, prints, a sign of a struggle, or any clues. Finding absolutely nothing, she had then painstakingly spent an entire evening cleaning and organizing. To make it perfect. For when Nedley returned, he would not see his beautiful cabin so mistreated. 

“Guess we’re not gonna make our dinner plans tonight,” Waverly said, breaking the silence. There was disappointment in her voice.

Nicole dropped her backpack on the kitchen countertop and stripped off her soaked jacket, tossing it near the front of the door. “Maybe not exactly what we were thinking, but we do need to eat.”

When Nicole turned, she felt Waverly approach her personal space too suddenly, her fingers digging into Nicole’s hair. “You’re wet,” she said softly, almost mindlessly. The way Waverly looked at her then made Nicole squirm. She shifted in her shoes. “I mean,” Waverly corrected, sensing Nicole’s discomfort, “your clothes are wet. We—you should change. You don’t wanna get sick.” Waverly walked over to the kitchen countertops. 

“Copy that.” Not sure what to do with the awkwardness, Nicole cleared her throat and changed the topic. “Did you even eat breakfast this morning?”

“I was so distracted with the weather change,” Waverly said, absorbed in unpacking Nicole’s backpack. “I forgot.”

“OK, somehow, I’m gonna make us something good.” Nicole assessed Nedley’s pantry and self-corrected. “Or something edible.” 

Waverly’s chuckle was wistful. “I’ll get the fire going.”

 

***** 

 

While Nicole made dinner, Waverly lit a fire in the fireplace and then headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. The interior of the bathroom was cramped but functional and served its purpose. The walls were made of horizontal wood paneling with a red cedar finish that gave the place a natural, cozy feeling.

Waverly stripped her wet clothes, pulled back the cloth shower curtain, and turned on the water. It spurted before releasing a strong, steady stream.

As she stepped under the warmth of the stream, she felt her body begin to relax and the tension in her body begin to dissolve. There was nothing in this world more relaxing to her than a warm shower or a long bath. She used the travel-sized body wash Nicole had loaned her to lather her body. Succumbing to the gentle water pressure, Waverly allowed her mind to wander. 

_What a day._

The changes from blizzard to unbearably humid heat to thunderstorm all in under 24 hours was extremely physically taxing. Her body felt sore, like she had run a marathon.

Waverly submerged under the spray. As she lathered, her thoughts naturally turned to Nicole. Where they always tended to go sooner rather than later. 

Knowing Nicole was only a shower curtain and an unlocked door away apparently did things to Waverly’s imagination. In a different lifetime, she wouldn’t have thought twice about asking Nicole to join her. Maybe because she’d have been fairly confident Nicole would happily have said yes. Yet even after making love last night, even after opening herself up once again to Nicole, Waverly wasn’t so sure anything had changed.

Waverly didn’t know what she had expected from Nicole after their night together. A promise to rekindle their relationship? An immediately functioning and perfectly healthy communication dynamic?

“A little less guardedness, for starters,” she muttered aloud to no one, trying to shake the image of Nicole flinching when Waverly reached for her. Between that, and refusing to be touched during lovemaking, Waverly sensed the message was pretty consistent. Nicole’s body and heart were off limits.

“Just like before.” Before the break up, any time Waverly tried to take control of the reigns, Nicole would stop her. It had been sexually maddening for Waverly. To be so intimate and yet so distant. To never be able to satisfy Nicole. It had left her tense and irritable and feeling rejected. Like her touch wasn’t important.

Sensual memories of allowing Nicole inside her again were starting to make her feel vulnerable. She questioned those memories now. Had she been so excited to reconnect with Nicole that she had distorted the meaning of their lovemaking? Had she been blind? Had they simply been fucking?

Waverly inhaled sharply and released a well-controlled breath.

She recognized this fear trapped in her throat. The feeling of growing disconnection. Of being a passenger on an out-of-control vehicle steering toward a path she did not want. She knew this road well and it always _always_ ended terribly. Waverly noticed she was grinding her teeth. 

_Stop._

How could Nicole make her feel so safe and secure in one moment and then have the power to make her heart pound with so much anxiety in the next? After the roller coaster ride they had been through for so long, how could she still be so willing to jump into bed with Nicole—or a sleeping bag, she thought, rolling her eyes at herself.

Waverly turned off the water, its warmth no longer producing soothing effects.

 

***** 

 

Waverly’s cell phone rang as she stepped out of the shower. She didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“Hey, sorry,” Waverly said, “I meant to call you back. We made it to Nedley’s cabin. We’re gonna stay put.” Waverly balanced the cell phone by her ear as she dressed.

“Oh?”

She could sense Wynonna’s protectiveness in that one word.

“Thunderstorms, Wynonna.”

“Right.”

Waverly ignored the sarcasm in Wynonna’s tone. “Jeremy make any headway?”

“No, power’s still flaky. It’s slowing everything down. Doc’s driving me to the Homestead. Today has kicked my ass. Didn’t even bother to kill the revenants. Nicole dropping you off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, probably,” Waverly responded mindlessly. This whole back-and-forth issue with Nicole had her feeling irritable.

There was momentary silence on the other line. Waverly braced herself for her sister’s questions.

“Everything OK, baby girl?” Wynonna asked warily.

“Yeah, of course,” she lied. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Hmm.”

_Here it comes._

“Well, for starters, the revenants shared some creative speculations about things they heard last night.”

_Ah, fudge nuggets._ Waverly had completely forgotten about them.

“And now you’re spending the night in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your ex.”

“It’s Nicole,” Waverly clarified.

“Which, last I checked, was your ex. Unless something has changed?”

Waverly sighed. “It’s complicated.” 

“Yeah! You wouldn’t be an Earp if it weren’t. Look, I know you get all protective when I talk about her but—”

“Wynonna…”

“See? I’m not telling you what to do. You’re a big girl. Just… please be careful. She’s changed.”

_And yet, not so much._

“Yeah, OK,” Waverly said, giving in. She didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Love you.”

“Me, too.”


	12. Armor Up

**Chapter Twelve: Armor Up**

 

While Waverly took a shower, Nicole found a box of Easy Mac in the mini pantry and boiled water in a pot on the gas cook top. It rode the line on edible, but it would be sufficient to give them much needed energy. 

Nicole set two plates and silverware on the coffee table as Waverly returned from her shower. When Nicole looked up, she was stunned to see Waverly in a black bra and wearing one of Nicole’s boxer shorts. Nicole failed to hide the instant surge of attraction. It wasn’t _just_ Waverly’s long, towel-dried hair cascading over her bare shoulders, or the way her bra perfectly clasped her full breasts, or the way her tight abs contracted as she moved, or even how the boxer shorts hung loose on her hips, revealing tan, shapely legs Nicole felt instinctually drawn to caress. It was the intoxicating pull to pleasure someone she loved and desired so much. It was the feeling of knowing that every moment not spent pressed up against Waverly— kissing her, touching her, making love to her—was time irresponsibly wasted.

Nicole lingered for a moment. A few hours together had most definitely not been enough for Nicole.

“I didn’t bring any with me,” Waverly said, indicating the boy shorts she was wearing. “I noticed you had an extra in your backpack—kinda stole them.” She anxiously poked the inside of her mouth under Nicole’s gaze.

_Give them back right now!_

Nicole swallowed and nodded her acknowledgment, not trusting her self-control. She looked away. “Um. How was the shower?”

“Good,” Waverly responded curtly.

That lack of elaboration created a jarring shift in mood. It made Nicole suspicious. What was going on in that head of hers? Observing her expression now, Waverly seemed preoccupied, more tense after the shower than before. Which was strange because showers were Waverly’s main source of relaxation during stressful times.

Detecting tension in the room and not understanding why, Nicole didn’t push it. She handed Waverly a plate of sub-par macaroni and cheese and silently sat on the couch.

 

*****

 

“... Any thoughts on Nedley?” Waverly asked. They were sitting on the suede couch post-dinner, Waverly’s knees touching Nicole’s hip as Nicole sat with her long legs stretched over the coffee table.

“None. Nothing makes sense. Tomorrow morning in the light, I’ll look a little more carefully. What did Wynonna say?”

“Just a goodnight. I don’t think Jeremy’s found anything yet.”

Nicole shook her head sadly. “I’m hitting dead ends, Waves.”

They were quiet for a while, the only sound in the cabin was the fire burning beside them and the steady rumble of thunder outside. Nicole was struck by how surreal it felt. Inside this cabin, with the fire burning lazily and the steady rain blanketing the skies, there was an illusion of comfort and safety. It was a strong illusion—it dulled Nicole’s inner pain. But it was just that. A tempting deception for the mind. 

“He knew about the Barron Lakes,” Nicole mused. “Did he know there was no Barron Lakes? That we were on some waste of a mission? If he did, how did he know? Why go through so much effort to leave a coded message? Was there more to it than just a warning?” Nicole asked her questions flippantly, having rehearsed them repeatedly in her head.

Waverly was at a loss for words, likely as mystified as Nicole. Seemingly out of nowhere, emotion hit Nicole hard. She swallowed a painful knot in her throat; her breath, labored.

_No._

Nicole sensed the beginnings of a panic attack and consciously wrestled to overpower it. She struggled to rebottle her anxiety. Contain her fears. Compartmentalize her guilt. To repackage it and send it far away from the surface. She didn’t want any of it.

She had thought his silence meant he trusted her as Acting Sheriff. She had so wanted to prove herself worthy of the position. Make him proud. How laughable!

_I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve checked in on him sooner._

What kind of person doesn’t check on an old man alone in the middle of a blizzard? 

A callous, self-centered person, Nicole’s inner demon cruelly replied for her.

Nicole hung her head, deflated. “I failed him, Waves,” Nicole let out, unable to stop her voice from trembling. She pressed fingertips to the back of her eyelids, rebuffing her tears. “I failed him so completely.”

“Oh, Nicole,” Waverly said, coming to Nicole’s side and leaning in toward her. “You’re OK, sweetheart. You’re trying your best.” Waverly placed a tender kiss to Nicole’s temple and Nicole dropped her head on Waverly’s shoulder, accepting her comfort.

“Rest, baby love. I’ve got you.” Nicole made herself small, as small as she felt, and let the rest of the night disappear in Waverly’s arms.

 

***** 

 

Waverly awoke to a faint squeak of the floor boards. Nicole was on the floor performing crunches.

She eyed the digital clock on the wall.

5:04 AM. Ugh. 

She turned on her side and closed her eyes, struggling to fall back asleep. Ten minutes later, the sound of the shower running entered her subconscious. She heard the shower knob as the water turned off. The bathroom door opened. Steam engulfed the small cabin. Then her eyes felt heavy and she momentarily closed them.

When she opened her eyes again, the digital clock read 5:24 AM. Double Ugh.

Waverly gave up. She turned on her side on the queen-sized murphy bed, resting her head on her hand as Nicole re-entered the cabin from the outside. She wearily watched Nicole close the door behind her.

“Do you ever sleep?” Waverly’s morning voice sounded husky.

“Not really,” Nicole responded. She kicked her shoes off.

Knowing her, Waverly guessed that Nicole had stopped sleeping the day her father figure had disappeared and she had inherited the responsibility of protecting Purgatory. Seeing Nicole lower her guard last night had had the strangest effect of reminding Waverly how _human_ Nicole really was. Her lover had a tendency to show the world an impenetrably superhuman exterior. It was a very convincing performance, but it also meant that people often missed when Nicole was actually in pain. Truthfully, Waverly missed it sometimes, too.

She vowed not to miss it again.

As she sat up and pulled the sheets in, Waverly surreptitiously scanned Nicole. She wore grey sweats, a backward snapback, and a white tank top that revealed toned shoulders and a lean physique. Waverly loved it when Nicole wore her snapback like that. It made her look extra tough and sexy. She loved the way Nicole’s red hair peaked through at the sides. 

“Carrying the weight of the world on those gorgeous shoulders?”

Nicole smiled. “Sorry I woke you, Waves. I didn’t mean to. I got antsy and wanted to check the shed.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Oh, I found something.” Nicole shoved her flashlight into her backpack. “I found frustration… and anger… and probably some pooled blood in my right toe after kicking a wooden panel.”

Waverly made a sympathetic face. “Ouch.” She could tell Nicole was dealing with a lot. Nedley’s disappearance and the pressures of being Sheriff with this insane weather. It was a lot for anyone to handle. “Well, at least you looked good doing it.”

Nicole poked the inside of her mouth and grinned at the comment. “Is this your attempt to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?” Nicole nodded her approval. They lingered, looking at each other for a moment before Waverly pulled the bed covers back for her and said, “Come to bed, Nicole.”

Waverly’s tone was firm. Instructive. And highly suggestive. It caught Nicole’s attention.

“Waverly, we need to talk,” Nicole warned but she complied anyway.

“I know.” Her eyes followed Nicole’s every movement as she dropped the snapback on the edge of the bed before joining Waverly. “We will.”

They adjusted their positions on the bed and effortlessly fell back into previous habits with Waverly resting her head on Nicole’s shoulder and snuggling into her, hand across Nicole’s hip. The thunderstorms had ended hours ago. It was so quiet inside the cabin Waverly could hear trees rustling outside. They were silent for a while as Waverly savored the sensation of having Nicole close. Nicole smelled fresh and clean. Her body felt warm and enticing. 

_This is perfect_ , Waverly thought and allowed herself to dream, only for a second, of a world where this was the new normal. Where their past was water under the bridge, mistakes were lessons well learned, and they were back to speaking honestly and without guardedness. Waverly ached to reconnect with Nicole like this. When she and Nicole were good, they were _so_ good.

“About last night, Waves… I-Thank you. Didn’t realize how much it was affecting me.” Nicole unconsciously rubbed Waverly’s back. The petting almost made Waverly purr. “Of course. Sometimes it’s good to open up.”

“Yeah.”

Waverly inched closer and nuzzled Nicole’s cheek, reveling in the sensation.

“You smell good. Moonlight path. My _second_ favorite scent.” 

Nicole chuckled. “I ran out of vanilla dipped—”

“You remember!” she squealed excitedly and gazed lovingly at Nicole without any filter.

“I never forget the things you like,” Nicole replied. She turned to look at Waverly, a sexy smile on her lips that reached her eyes and lit her face. Their lips were so close now, Waverly only needed to tilt slightly to kiss her. Her pulse quickened, going so fast, she wasn’t sure whether she was excited or nervous.

“That’s true.” Waverly reluctantly dragged her eyes away from Nicole’s lips. The ache returned a little more urgently this time. She craved to touch Nicole. She absolutely hated knowing she was so restricted. Waverly internally struggled to subdue her wanting.

“I’ve missed you,” Waverly blurted out, searching Nicole’s eyes.

“Me, too.” Nicole appeared genuine. Her facial features were soft, which made her look less guarded. Not knowing how long that would last, Waverly felt pressure to summon her courage, take the chance, and ask the question she desperately needed to know.

“Why don’t you want me touching you?”

Nicole’s muscles stiffened slightly under her, a surprised expression making Waverly feel that she had been too impulsive in her question. Nicole opened her mouth, then closed it, hesitating. The energy Waverly felt moments ago now transformed into full anxiety.

“I want your touch, Waverly,” Nicole started softly. “I just… I know what that means to you, what that says to you about our relationship status, and if I have any reservations, I don’t think it would be fair to you for us to keep moving forward so quickly.”

Waverly didn’t hear anything past... “You have reservations?” She pulled back from their position, sat upright, and looked down heatedly at Nicole. Waverly witnessed the immediate return of Nicole’s armor. The tender moment they had shared mere seconds ago forever lost. The whiplash was in full swing, but Waverly didn’t care. She wanted answers, even if they were horrible answers.

Nicole was silent and slow to respond and Waverly had zero patience. She angrily pushed through the knot in her throat.

“Are you leading me on?”

“God no, Waverly, I would never—”

Waverly cut her off. “Do you have any intention for us to get back together?”

When Nicole averted her eyes, the throbbing in Waverly’s heart increased. She was having flashbacks of their breakup and it was suddenly really hard to concentrate, but Waverly refused to accept a non-verbal response.

“Please answer me, Nicole. I deserve to know why you slept with me the other night if you had no intention of us reconnecting.”

Nicole sat upright and met Waverly’s eyes. Her voice was steady. Tempered. “I want to reconnect, Waves. I do. But we’ve done all of this before, and in the end, I always hurt you. I don’t want that—”

Waverly huffed in frustration. “You hurt me because you shut me out. Because you’re too guarded. Because you refuse to talk to me about what’s really going on in that damn head of yours!” 

Nicole looked straight ahead, her jaw locked, her body practically trembling with loosely controlled energy. She seemed to be considering her options. _To show up or to shut down_ , Waverly angrily predicted in her expression.

“You want me less guarded, Waves?” she started quietly and spoke slowly. Nicole nodded to herself and looked at Waverly. “OK.” Waverly watched Nicole’s eyes darken. “I’m an open book! I want to be with you so much it physically hurts me. It kills me to keep you at arm’s length. I miss everything about how it used to be between us. I miss your kisses, your touch, you pleasuring me.” Nicole swallowed. “But something in me has hardened, Waverly—I don’t know when it started, but I can’t seem to make it go away.” 

Nicole unclenched her jaw and unraveled a mixture of sadness and fury on her face. Waverly physically drew back from the intensity coming at her.

“There is a darkness that follows me. I have this _ache_ in my heart I can’t seem to get rid of. I feel so incredibly _guilty_ about everything I did to you before our break up… how I humiliated you that day in front of everyone at Shorty’s? No matter what I do, I’m always the reason you have this wounded look you have on right now. Which is why I understand—I really do— why nobody—not Wynonna, or Jeremy, or Doc, or Dolls— _nobody_ checked up on me after we broke up. I understand why everyone disappeared, why they didn’t bother with me. In their eyes, I’m the demon that hurt the angel. But you know, Waves? Even though I get the why… I am left feeling so _unbearably alone_ because now I see they’re not the family I thought they were. I don’t belong like I thought I did.”

Tears fell unchecked. “I’m guarded, baby, because even though I would give, and do, anything to make you feel… good, and safe, and loved… being close to you scares me, losing control with you scares me… because all I do is hurt you, and I don’t know how to protect you from me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have enjoyed reading countless stories on this forum from many talented writers. This is the first story I have ever written to near completion. And while I wrote this fantasy for my own pleasure (and to work out some of my own issues), I am excited to share it with others and see what people may think.
> 
> I am not looking to be a professional writer in the future, but if you have any constructive feedback regarding prose or writing style, I gladly welcome it.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read my fanfiction.


End file.
